


The Idiot and The Captain

by Agent_Snark



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Attempted Kidnapping, Awesome Dís, BAMF Fíli, BAMF Sigrid, Background Relationships, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Happy Ending, King Bard the Bowman, M/M, Misunderstandings, No one succeeds though, Nori is a Little Shit, Oblivious Fíli, Oblivious Sigrid, Orcs, depictions of violence, dwarf ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21689881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Snark/pseuds/Agent_Snark
Summary: Fili, Son of Dis, Daughter of Thrain, Prince Under the Mountain has just been betrothed to the eldest daughter of King Bard the Bowman of Dale. With no desire to marry someone he's never met, he leaves Erebor in search of his One.Or...Princess Sigrid of Dale has had a massive crush on The Golden Prince of Erebor since she was a very young woman. She's held onto her crush for so long that she hates it when she starts to get feelings for The Idiot that just joined her Company in their quest to stop all slavers and The Master of Laketown.Happy Hobbit Holidays Gift Exchange
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies), Kíli/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 58
Kudos: 152
Collections: Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2019





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnironSidh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnironSidh/gifts).



> It's The Happy Hobbit Holiday Gift Exchange. This is for AnironSidh. I hope you like it!
> 
> Special thanks to MoonlightRurouni for being the most amazing beta! I could never do any of this without you!
> 
> Thanks to The Paramedic for answering all my "Will it kill someone if..." questions.

Prologue 

Fili, Son of Dis, Daughter of Thror, Prince Under the Mountain, swallowed against his rising nausea. He tasted bile at the back of his throat as he stared at the pair of massive doors in front of him, dreading what lay beyond them.

“Fili, what’s the matter?”

“Nervous,” he croaked and didn’t dare try to say anything more. His stomach twisted itself into a tighter knot.

His mother, Princess Dis, drew him into a hug, pressing her forehead gently against his, carefully so as to not muss his hair or his circlet. “And what reason do you have to be nervous? You’ve been to these types of events before.”

“I’m never the center of attention though,” Fili said, more color draining from his face. He fiddled with the hilts of the knives he wore up his sleeves, pulling them slightly from their sheathes before returning them to their places. “It’s always Grandfather or Uncle Thorin or you. I may be present but no one looks at me.”

“You’d be surprised at how many people have been noticing you,” Dis said kindly and smoothed a hand down the back of his head, resettling one of the braids there, the one that marked him as a second lieutenant of Erebor’s, having just passed his exams to rise to that rank. 

“Still nervous,” Fili said.

Dis smiled. “Everything will be well. Remember what Balin has taught you. We will all be nearby.”

Someone to the side cleared their throat and Dis looked up to see Thorin watching them, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It’s time,” she said and brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders, “I’m proud of you,” she added. Dis turned him and gave him a small nudge towards his Uncle Thorin. Fili glanced back at his mother one last time before squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. Regal bearing. Right. He could do this. Really, he could.

He glanced at Thorin and felt his confidence waver a touch. No one did regal and majestic quite as well as Thorin, Prince Under the Mountain, called Oakenshield.

Thorin must have noticed his glance. His shoulders dropped slightly and he let a small smile tug at his lips, breaking some of the usual stoicism he wore like a second skin and making him seem more approachable, less formidably majestic. Fili gave Thorin a look of gratitude before doing his best to look as regal as Thorin always did. 

Fili had panicked for nothing. His great grandfather, Thror, King Under the Mountain presented him to the amassed nobility from various kingdoms, dwarf, human, and elf alike. Fili stood and surveyed the room, holding an expressionless mask on his features. Well, maybe not entirely expressionless. Kili always told him he needed to lighten up with it, that he looked a little too much like Uncle Thorin when he was brooding.

It didn’t matter in the end. Once Thror finished presenting him as a recognized Prince Under the Mountain, the festivities began and Fili followed his family down onto the main floor of the Great Hall. He could handle being in groups, just not put on display with every eye on him all at once. He preferred speaking to people in ways that he could hear and be heard by all.

He’d been down amongst the crowds, milling about and talking to groups and accepting congratulations on his Coming of Age when someone shouted behind him. He turned and barely had time to whip a knife out of his sleeve to catch the sword aiming at his neck on the blade. The knife spun out of his hand, clattering to the ground.

The pair of humans he’d just been about to greet froze in shock. Fili took a moment to glance at them, his eyes settling on the young girl, barely old enough to be at such a party. Frightened blue-green eyes stared back, flicked over his shoulder, and she inhaled sharply. He turned back and ducked the next swing she’d just started to shout about. He kicked out, catching the attacker in the knee. The dwarf tumbled to the ground.

Fili looked back at the humans. The father had an arm around the girl’s shoulders, pulling her away. “Go!” Fili shouted, pointing to a nearby doorway.

The father nodded, scooped the young woman up in his arms and started running the way Fili indicated.

“Quit turning your back to your opponent.”

Fili turned back, his second knife out as well as one of the swords strapped to his hips. Dwalin stood between him and his assailant, Grasper and Keeper in his fists and blood dripping off the blades.

Fili looked around. The room was almost empty, three dwarrow remained, besides the royal family, each of them threatening one of Durin’s sons, including his little brother.

“Quit worrying about me and protect the king,” Fili snapped and moved to help Kili.

“I still outrank you, lieutenant,” Dwalin reminded him.

“Not out here, you don’t. Prince, remember?” Fili said before breaking into a sprint. He threw himself at the dwarf attacking Kili, plunging his knife into the unprotected area between pauldron and breastplate. 

The rest of the fight ended quickly.

Dis raced to Fili and Kili, crowding close to them both and drawing them into a tight hug. “Thank Mahal,” she breathed.

“We’re all right, Amad,” Fili said. “No need to worry.”

Dis nodded. “There won’t ever be again if I have my way.” She pulled them in tighter.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili gets bad news
> 
> Nori taught Fili well
> 
> Dis is an awesome mother

Chapter 1

This  _ couldn’t _ be happening. His mother had promised she would interfere. So had his father. And Uncle Thorin. Uncle Thorin who now stood with his One, and husband, behind Thror, King Under the Mountain. Fili’s great-grandfather. The dwarf signing his happiness away for an alliance that was already stronger than most between two different races.

“I don’t understand,” Fili finally managed to say, his voice was steadier than it had a right to be around the cloying, clogged feeling in his throat. His tongue felt too big for his mouth and there was an odd ringing, pounding in his ears.

Thrain stared straight ahead on his throne, not even looking at Fili. “It has been decided. Our alliance with Dale and her people must be strengthened. You will marry the eldest daughter of King Bard. We will be announcing the betrothal in two weeks at Prince Kili’s Coming of Age celebration. You will be married two months later.”

“I was unaware there were any problems with our alliance with Dale,” Fili said, his brain scrambling for something, anything to say that might sway Thrain’s decision. Options passed through his mind: he was barely of age, had barely been outside the Royal Wing in the years since his disastrous Coming of Age celebration, Fili was young and could find his One at any point as Uncle Thorin had. He discarded each idea as it flitted through his head. Logic had stopped mattering to Thrain long ago. He was rarely seen outside the treasury as it was, thin and frail, and losing his mind. Grandfather Thrain ruled Erebor more than Thrain did.

“You are young yet,” Thror said. “You do not understand such matters. We have decided. Fili, Prince Under the Mountain, you will marry the Princess of Dale.”

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Fili sent one last desperate look toward Uncle Thorin and Grandpa Thrain before leaving the seldom-used throne room.

He tried to understand. He tried to follow Thror’s reasoning, to see cracks in the relationship with Dale, but all reports he’d heard pointed to a strong alliance. The strange noise in his ears increased. His steps carried him to his family’s apartments in the royal wing, his mind tumbling, scrabbling, grasping, clawing for any bit of reason.

“He’s told you then.”

Fili stopped in his trudge to his rooms. He lifted his eyes from where they’d been staring unseeing at the floor. His mother, Dis, stood just inside their home, his younger brother and father absent.

“Yes,” Fili said.

Dis’, already unnaturally pale, whitened further. “I did not want this for you,” she said, stepping forward. She reached for him, desperation in her voice. “I fought him, tried to distract him and return him to the treasury where he’d forget the entire thing. Thorin and Bilbo tried too. So did your father and grandfather, but-”

Fili let his mother wrap her arms around him. He settled his chin on the top of her head. “It’s all right, Amad,” he said softly even as his stomach clenched in anxiety and his brain screamed in defiance. “I’ll figure something out.” He carefully pulled away, trying to convey a lack of blame in his motions.

“Fili-”

He stepped back again and started to turn toward his rooms. “I’d like a little time alone, please,” he said and hated himself for the pain that flashed across his passionate mother’s features. Gently, he added, “Everything will be well, Amad. Just let me think.”

She nodded hesitantly and he all but dashed into his rooms before Kili or Vili could arrive.

Once the doors were shut behind him, he stared around his room, trying to decide if his mother would hear him if he went on a tirade and broke everything in sight. It wasn’t  _ fair _ . He’d done all he could, studied, resisted the more destructive shenanigans Kili came up with, been a model of good behavior in public for decades, fought with honor in the skirmishes with wandering orc bands the few times he’d been allowed out on patrol before The Disaster. What else could he have done to stop this madness?

“Breathe,” he ordered himself aloud, remembering the advice from Dwalin. Of course, Dwalin had been telling him what to do when he was faced with a battle that he would not be able to win unless he had a clear mind. “Think. What are your options?” He breathed deeply and started to pace.

Abdication?

No. If he abdicated, Thrain would very likely disown him. He’d break his mother’s and father’s hearts.

Rebel?

And be accused of treason, banished from the mountain and break his mother’s and father’s hearts? 

No, not an option either.

He picked up a dagger lying on a table and flipped it into the air, letting it tumble end over end before grabbing the hilt and tossing it up again.

No one had tried to force Uncle Thorin to marry anyone besides Uncle Bilbo, the little hobbit from the Shire, grandson to the current Thain. He’d arrived with a delegation over ten years ago. Thorin’s duties included seeing to the delegations comfort. He’d shaken Bilbo’s hand once and known immediately Bilbo was his One. All dwarrow knew their One upon first physical contact.

Thorin and Bilbo had been married within three years. A fast engagement by dwarrow standards but if they hadn’t, Bilbo would have aged faster than Thorin until they were bound together. A decades-long engagement just hadn’t been an option for them.

And no one had tried to stop them, despite being of different races.

Of course not. Dwarrow law forbade anyone from being forced to marry another when they’d found their-

A grin split Fili’s face. Of course! All he had to do was find his One.

He’d yet to find them in Erebor. They likely weren’t in the Mountain. His only option then was to travel until he found his One and then return. Hopefully, by then, Thrain would have either been distracted from the entire “marry the eldest Princess of Dale” nonsense. If not, the law was on Fili's side anyway.

Fili moved, going to the pack he kept in his rooms for emergencies as Nori and Dwalin had both told him time and again to keep, just in case.

Nori.

Fili looked toward one of his mirrors.

Nori had taught him and Kili what to do in case they needed to disappear. Fili, especially, was too easily recognized by dwarrow. Not many had the famous Durin blue eyes after all. Even less had golden hair. That alone had earned him the nicknames The Golden Prince of Erebor and The Lion Prince.

He couldn’t do anything about the eyes without hampering his vision, but his hair…

He swallowed back nausea that tried to reassert itself.

Permanent changes were out of the question. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even considering temporarily changing his hair color toed the line of dishonor. He’d have to change his braids too. All dwarrow anywhere near Erebor knew the braids the Durin family favored. He’d need something simpler. His beads were too noticeable too. Mithril tended to draw even the most undiscerning eyes. Gold? No. Silver or copper.

Still, it was the idea of the Golden Prince of Erebor he had to dispel. So, change the golden hair. Drop the royal persona and language. Add a bit of unkemptness to his appearance, wear nothing but his somewhat worn but still high-quality travel clothes. Take his simplest of swords and daggers, nothing jeweled or extravagant.

This could work.

He started packing anything not already in his emergency pack before going into his bathroom.

Nori had given him supplies to change his appearance in a hurry. In the bottle, there was a mixture of coffee, black tea, and water used to boil walnut shells. It wasn’t permanent, but it would darken his hair quickly, giving him a chance to slip away and hopefully go unrecognized as the Golden Prince of Erebor.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Fili reached for the first of many beads and clasps in his hair, taking them out one at a time and unraveling the series of braids they held in place. He brushed his hair once it was free, taking in the obvious waves created by the braids. It would all smooth out when he applied the dye. He picked up the jar and gave it a good shake before opening the lid and peering inside.

“Fili?”

He yelped and almost dropped the jar. He looked over his shoulder and met his mother’s eyes.

Drat.

Dis took in his unbraided hair, the jar in his hands, and the emergency pack he’d set down on his bed in the adjoining room.

“Amad, I-”

She shook her head and closed the remaining distance between them. She gently took the jar from his hands and his shoulders slumped. His only chance and he’d missed it by forgetting to lock his door.

“I’ll send for supplies."

His head jerked up, the last little bit of hope clinging inside him finding strength and clawing its way back to the forefront of his mind. “Amad?”

“You deserve to marry for love,” Dis said. “I’ll distract Thror for as long as I can. Try to find them within the two and a half months before you’re supposed to marry Bard’s daughter.”

Fili pulled his mother into a hug. “Thank you, Amad. They're close. I know they are. No further away than the Greenwood or Laketown.”

Dis heaved a deep sigh, her expression resigned and sad. “We’ll make this work,” she promised. “Even if you don’t find your One-”

“I will come back and do my duty as a prince of Erebor,” Fili interrupted. “I’ll only take a chance to find my One. I won’t risk souring our alliance with Dale.”

“Always the noble prince,” Dis murmured. “Don’t come back until you find them. I will handle King Bard and Grandfather.”

Fili nodded, knowing Dis and Bard got along well. “I’m surprised he wants this marriage to happen.”

“I doubt he does,” Dis said as she nudged Fili towards the large basin. He obediently bent over it and she started carefully pouring the dye over his head, rubbing it into his hair, “But he has a council of nobles he must answer to. Now hush. I need to concentrate or you’ll look uneven and your disguise will be ruined.” She worked slowly and carefully, making sure to avoid his skin as best she could as she rubbed the mixture into his hair, beard, mustache, and eyebrows. “You’ll have to use darkener for your lashes,” she told him and stepped back once she’d rinsed the excess dye from her hands. “Stay here. I’ll fetch some of mine.”

Fili nodded and, once she’d gone, he turned toward the mirror, examining her work and his altered appearance.

He looked a bit like Uncle Frerin, he decided, and less like his own father. Everyone always remarked on how he looked like Vili, but now, with his hair no longer matching the rare golden color, Fili thought his facial features more closely resembled the Durin line.

Dis returned with a small pot and a tiny brush. “You look like a young Thorin,” she said with a sad smile, “back before he started taking on the duties of Crown Prince before his time.”

“I think I look more like Uncle Frerin,” Fili told her and held still as she brushed something on his eyelashes. He did not like the idea of being poked in the eye.

“And so you would,” she said. “You were too young to remember Thorin before Thror started to lose his mind. Frerin looks a lot like Thorin did when he had fewer worries. You still favor Thorin’s strong features though. There.” She set the brush aside. “I’d be surprised if anyone outside the family recognized you now.”

“You don’t think the eyes will give it away?” Fili asked, glancing back at the mirror again. He still felt like it was Frerin looking back at him, and not Thorin.

“Blue isn’t so uncommon a color,” Dis said. “Yes, they’re lighter than most but I don’t think anyone will make the connection.”

“If you say so,” Fili said. He took a deep breath and turned to look his mother in the eye again. “I promise to be careful,” he said.

“I should hope,” she said. “You’re sensible enough though. Just try to keep the mischief down to a minimum with whatever caravan you join. Not everyone is as forgiving of your shenanigans as I am.”

“Yes, Amad,” Fili said. He hugged her again. “Thank you for understanding.”

They left the washroom and she handed him his pack. “The cooks will have food for you in the kitchens. Head there and then straight to the markets with you. Nori’s taught you well enough you shouldn’t have any issues making your way out of the royal wing without being seen.”

“I’ll be back soon, I hope,” Fili said and shouldered the pack. The weight, though unfamiliar, lent a sense of comfort and excitement. Ever since The Disastrous Party, he’d been almost exclusively confined to the Royal Wing. He’d not met with any foreign delegations since then, keeping to dwarrow from Erebor and almost entirely nobility with the exception of the few patrols he’d gone on, surrounded by guards and soldiers in search of wandering orc packs.

He hoped his experiences with the Guard would be enough to help him along as he searched for his One.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili misunderstands
> 
> Nori's annoyed
> 
> Bofur's a good dwarf

Chapter 2

Getting out of Erebor didn’t take much effort at all. Fili’s stone sense may not have been as strong as Uncle Thorin’s favorite spy’s, but it was adequate enough that he could find his way out of the mountain using the hidden passages. 

Fili’d thought about going to the stables and trying to slip away with one of the war rams or his pony but discarded the idea. It was too risky. The rams were too closely watched and were difficult to saddle alone and his pony Obsidian was too distinctive. The mare’s absence would be noticed too easily.

So Fili left on foot, taking one of the few secret passages out of the mountain and heading into the Wilds surrounding Erebor. He couldn’t think of where to start but decided that maybe following the Great Road that followed the River Running to the Greenwood would be a good place to start. The more people he could be around, he figured, the more likely he was to find his One.

He’d been traveling for three days, taking his time, greeting everyone he met on the road when he heard the sounds of battle on the Greenwood’s borders. He drew his swords and approached the area, moving into the trees for cover.

A caravan’s guards and members fought against cloaked, armored, and armed elf, human, and dwarf bandits, trying to keep them away from the wagons full of goods. Though the caravaners outnumbered the bandits, they were quickly losing ground.

Fili didn’t hesitate. Once he’d been able to take in the two sides of the fight, he launched himself into it with enthusiasm. He came in close with a bandit, disarming them with a swing of his swords and sending them onto their back with an elbow to the side of their head. They fell heavily and didn’t stir beyond a pained groan.

He turned into the next bandit, trying to get to the caravan even as the last fighting members were taken down, their weapons confiscated. Growling in anger, Fili kicked the bandit out of his way.

A third bandit dressed in dark brown leather armor and a green hood met him, coming hilt to hilt. They bore down on him, using their advantage in height. They pressed down on him, nimbly dodging away from his kick. They disengaged and came back in, swinging swiftly and staying close, making it hard for Fili to use both his swords effectively. Snarling, he pressed forward, shoving the bandit back, again and again, trying to create space between them. They traded blows and he worked to adapt to their fighting style, an odd mix of human and dwarrow techniques. They came together again, hilt to hilt and Fili threw all his weight behind his push to disengage. He shifted his stance, bringing both swords around to continue the fight.

Someone grabbed him from behind and placed a knife at his throat. A voice, soft and familiar whispered in his ear. “I suggest you stand down, Your Highness, before you make a grave mistake we will all regret.”

Fili’s eyes widened before narrowing. He lowered his swords reluctantly, cursing himself for letting someone sneak up behind him, never mind who it was. “Nori,” he growled.

“Don’t add any more to that name and I won’t rat you out,” Nori hissed and released Fili.

“What in Mahal’s name are you doing out here and with bandits?” Fili demanded, glancing back at the spot where his opponent had been standing. They’d disappeared when his attention had shifted to Nori.

“Not bandits,” Nori said and pulled his hood off his head and the cloth away from his nose and mouth. “Come here. Take a look.”

Fili followed Uncle Thorin’s favorite spy to one of the nearby wagons. A few of the people he’d thought were bandits stood around one of them. The one he’d been fighting, distinguishable from the others by the longbow slung across their back, leaned into the wagon and then carefully helped a young human woman climb out. Her hands were bound with rope and there were marks, rope burns, around her ankles. He looked past her and saw more people in the wagon, all bound but being set free. They were all young, healthy, strong.

“I don’t understand,” Fili said.

“Let us take care of these people and I’ll explain everything later,” Nori said and pulled Fili away from the group again. Once they were out of earshot of even the few elves in the group, Nori stopped them.

“So, mind telling me what brings the third in line for Durin’s throne out into the Wilds with his hair dyed and his braids altered? Good job remembering the eyelashes by the way.”

Fili rubbed a hand down his face and looked back at the group he’d attacked unknowingly. He winced guiltily as someone helped the second dwarf he’d knocked unconscious come around. “I’m betrothed,” he told Nori.

“And yet, something tells me congratulations are not in order.”

Fili shook his head. “I’ve never even met her. Great-Grandfather just decided it and decreed it would be so. Some nonsense about strengthening ties with Dale.”

“Dale?” Nori asked, his eyebrows rising.

Fili nodded his mouth setting into an even grimmer line, reminding Nori strongly of the lad’s constantly brooding uncle. “I’m to marry King Bard’s eldest daughter in a matter of months,” he explained.

Nori whistled. “Well isn’t that interesting?” he said mildly. Before Fili could ask what he meant, something caught Nori’s attention and he motioned for him to follow. The captives the caravan had taken had been released. A few of the humans that fought alongside Nori walked with them, leading them back toward Dale. A group of elves surrounded the traders and escorted them, now bound and disarmed, toward the palace deeper in the forest.

Nori led Fili to the person Fili had been attacking before Nori intervened. They turned when they heard their footsteps. Fili caught a glimpse of blue-green eyes before a hand reached up and pushed the dark green hood back and tugged the black mask off their nose and mouth.

A young woman glared down at Fili. She wore her light golden brown, almost blonde, hair pulled back into a braid and tightly coiled at the nape of her neck where no one would be able to grab it in a fight. She stood around a half a foot taller than him and a light dusting of freckles covered her nose.

“And who are you?” she demanded, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

“Fisrin,” Fili said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what was happening. I saw a caravan under attack and-”

“Save your apologies,” the young woman snapped. “You could have cost us dearly.” She looked at Nori. “You know him?”

“Sure do,” Nori said, leaning back on his heels and shrugging. “He’s a good sort. Just didn’t know what we were about. Mistook us for bandits.”

She glared at Fili again. “I suggest you move on with your travels,” she told him and stalked away, back ramrod straight.

On impulse, Fili stepped forward. “I’d like to make amends,” he called after her. She stopped in her tracks, shoulders tense. “Nori has briefly told me what it is you all do. I’d like to help if you’ve room for another fighter.”

She turned again but didn’t look at Fili. “He any good?” she asked.

Nori grinned at her crookedly. “You can answer that yourself,” he said. “Not many keep you occupied for as long as he did.”

Her lips thinned in displeasure and she looked at Fili. “Fine. Just stay away from me.”

Fili’s shoulders slumped when she turned again and went to talk to a red-headed elf dressed in the greens and browns common to Greenwood’s guards. “She’s pretty angry with me, isn’t she?”

Nori shrugged. “The Captain’s like that. Doesn’t trust easily. Don’t take it personally.” He clapped Fili on the shoulder and moved toward the young woman, a wide grin on his face.

A dwarf came up and slung an arm around Fili’s shoulders. “Welcome to the Company,” he greeted, his accent thick and telling. Definitely not from Erebor. Ered Luin perhaps? A few dwarrow had moved from one kingdom to the other over the years.

“Thank you,” Fili said, taking in the dwarf’s odd hat and braided pigtails. He carried a miner’s mattock and wore a grin as easily as Dwalin carried Grasper and Keeper.

“Bofur,” the dwarf introduced himself 

“Fisrin,” he replied. “Most just call me Fee.”

Bofur’s grin grew wider if that were at all possible. “Fee,” he said with a nod as if trying the name out. “If you’ve got any gear, you better get it now. We’ll be moving off in a minute.”

Fili glanced over at Nori and The Captain, both of them deep in conversation still but noted how the woman slung an old pack on her back, her bow leaning against her shoulder as she adjusted the straps and buckles. Fili nodded at Bofur and walked back over to the slight rise he’d used as cover when he’d first found the fight. He’d dropped his pack in a bush and now retrieved it before hustling back to where Bofur now spoke with another dwarf with grey and black hair braided together. An ax head stuck out of his forehead but didn’t seem to hinder him. No blood dripped from beneath the ax head. He moved easily. An old wound then. Perhaps from the last attempt to retake Khazad-dûm, some sixty years before Fili was born? 

“Fee,” Bofur said, motioning him over. “This is-”

“Let’s move!”

“My cousin Bifur,” Bofur said and started walking with a glance at where The Captain and Nori led the group. “You’re welcome to stick with us until you get to know the others.”

“Thank you,” Fili said and nodded at Bifur who grunted in reply, his hands forming a simple greeting in Iglishmek. Fili responded in kind and Bofur and Bifur’s faces lit up at the motions.

“How well do you know it?” Bofur asked with a look at Fili’s hands.

“Fluent,” he said. “My mother insisted I learn it.”

“Great! Bifur only uses Iglishmek and ancient Khuzdul, ever since Azanulbizar.”

So he’d been right. “Well, he can help me brush up on my ancient Khuzdul. I’m rusty on it as well.”

“Something else your mother insisted on?” Bifur signed, an eyebrow raised.

“Great-grandfather actually,” Fili said. “Very traditional dwarf.” He made an irritated face, remembering the hours upon hours spent learning a language that very few knew, most of which were scholars that spent their lives studying ancient texts from the First Age.

Bofur laughed, slinging his arm around Fili’s shoulders again as they followed the rest of the - whatever the group called themselves. The Company? Fili would have to ask later. “Thank Mahal for traditional old dwarrow,” he said and Bifur nodded his agreement. At least those hours and hours of language lessons would go toward  _ something. _


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid is annoyed
> 
> Nori doesn't give up
> 
> Sigrid hates reminders

Chapter 3

Nori caught Sigrid once Tauriel, Captain of the Greenwood’s guards, moved away to help escort the would-be slavers to the palace where they would be imprisoned, tried, and most likely branded for their crimes. No one would deal with them once they had a slaver’s brand burned into their faces.

“So,” Nori said with the wide, mischievous grin he used when he was up to something. “What do you think of our new member?”

“Don’t give me that, Nori,” Sigrid told him in exasperation. “I don’t need some wet-behind-the-ears, egotistical, idiot coming in and thinking they can fight and be someone’s hero just by swinging a sword around.”

Nori laughed. “You don’t need to worry about that. He’s had  _ plenty _ of training.”

There was something in the way Nori stressed the word that made Sigrid pause. “What are you getting at?” she asked warily. “I don’t like surprises.”

“Life’s no fun without a few surprises,” he countered easily. 

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We need to move away from the road, set up camp, and tend to the wounded. Were you hurt?”

He snorted even as he started signaling to the other members of their little group. They started moving, retrieving gear and supplies from the forest nearby where they’d stashed their things. “Do I ever get hurt?” he asked.

Sigrid didn’t bother to reply, just went to the tree where she’d shoved her own pack amongst the thick branches. As she did, she took a moment to sneak a peek at the dark-haired idiot that had attacked them in some misunderstanding if what Nori said was true. He stood to the side, shouldering a well-made pack. She narrowed her eyes and pulled her bow off her back and put the pack on. She checked her quiver strapped to her belt and thigh. She’d used two in the fight before things got too confusing for her to take proper aim. She wasn’t her father after all. King Bard the Bowman may be as good a shot as his ancestor Girion the Dragonslayer, but his daughter had a great deal more practicing to do before she had that level of confidence.

She stole one more glance back at The Idiot. He’d caught up to Bofur and Bifur. Internally, she approved. She didn’t like outsiders joining up with them randomly without checking into them beforehand. However, Nori vouched for him and she trusted him more than anyone else here. Still, she didn’t want to trust The Idiot yet. Bofur, however, could tell a person’s character within days. If there was something odd about The Idiot or something that threatened them, Bofur would have a sense of it soon enough.

If she were truly honest with herself, and she made a point in being honest, she hoped Nori was right about The Idiot, at least so she could observe him longer. The way he carried himself, all lean muscle, self-confidence, and conviction interested her on a personal level in a way she hadn’t felt in five years.

She shook her head. She needed to let that go already. “Let’s move!” she called.

“I saw that,” Nori said from beside her as they started down the road. They had a few hours of daylight left. They could reach camp that night and then Dale the next day, resupply and send scouts in to see if there were new reports. If there weren’t any (which there usually weren’t in Dale), they’d head to Laketown for the same purpose. For some reason, they always found more leads in the damp city. Sigrid suspected The Master dealt with slavers behind closed doors, allowing them into the city, turning a blind eye as long as they paid a hefty fee, and giving them recommendations to enter other cities.

“Saw what?” Sigrid asked. She scanned their surroundings as they walked, searching for any signs of attack from the treeline or from behind the hillocks around them that would lead into Erebor’s slopes the closer they got to the mountain.

Nori didn’t answer, just took to whistling happily.

“He is easy on the eyes though.”

Sigrid’s toe caught on a loose rock. There was no other reason in all of Arda for her to have stumbled. Her eyes flicked quickly over to Nori, taking in his far too smug grin. “He is not,” she snapped.

“Really?” Nori asked and looked over his shoulder. Sigrid stiffened, fighting the impulse to follow his gaze only to twitch when laughter rang behind them from a voice she’d only heard a little and only for the first time that day. “Could have fooled me. Got some nicely chiseled features on him.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” Sigrid ground out. She fingered some of the fletchings on her arrows, trying to distract her from the possibility of hearing that laugh again. 

“Come off it, Lass,” Nori said with a laugh. “He’s handsome. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

But it did, Sigrid thought. She’d hung on to an old feeling, an old crush for five years now. She didn’t want to let it go yet, not until she saw him again. Then, no one had really seen him since, no one that wasn’t a dwarf of Erebor that is. Nori refused to say if he’d ever met him. It seemed likely, considering who Nori really worked for, but then, maybe keeping a distance from the rest of that family was a good idea.

“Then again,” Nori continued, flicking one of this throwing knives out and giving it a complicated flipping toss in the air (she really needed to convince him to teach her more of those), “I’ve always had a thing for those light blue-grey eyes. Very distinctive they are.”

“They are not,” she grumbled.

“Ah, so you  _ did _ notice!”

She growled wordlessly in response and picked up the pace, Nori cackling as he hurried to match her pace with his shorter legs.

They walked for hours. As darkness fell, Sigrid finally led them back to the camp they’d set up a few days prior as they lay in wait for the caravan they’d taken that day. Only a few of them had remained behind. Delicious smells wafted toward them on the slight evening breeze.

“What do you have for us tonight Bombur?” Sigrid asked as she stowed her pack by the trees where she’d hung her hammock.

Bombur looked up from where he stirred the massive pot in front of her. “Those rabbits you got us this morning are coming together to make a nice stew. There’s also bread and I made a crumble with the wild strawberries the princeling found.”

The Idiot’s head snapping up at Bombur’s words irritated Sigrid. Only because she was apparently aware enough of his presence that she noticed it. Drat the dwarf. He needed to leave before she lost focus on what was really important. She didn’t care at all if he’d met Legolas before. She was not about to go and ask Legolas how they’d met. It wasn’t her business.

She nodded in Bombur’s direction. “Get everyone fed. We’ll stay the night and head back toward Dale tomorrow.”

“Everything go well then?” Bombur asked as he started ladling out portions to the fighters.

“Mostly,” Sigrid said and shot a scathing look at The Idiot who had the grace to look apologetic and the sense to not draw further attention to himself. “We have a few injuries, but we caught the caravan and got the captives sent back home.”

“Good, good,” Bombur said. “Well, eat up Captain. There’s plenty for all.”

Sigrid glared at Bombur over the nickname but didn’t worry about it otherwise. There was no point anymore. It’d been too long. She waited for everyone else to be served, including The Idiot that had hurt two of her Company, though she thought of informing him that he had to pull his weight before he could eat. Nori’s raised eyebrows had stopped her. They weren’t there to starve anyone, especially those that wanted to join their cause. She still didn’t trust him though.

After she’d finished and Bofur had kindly taken her bowl to clean it, Sigrid set about checking her gear. She watched Bofur disappear with The Idiot in tow to go clean the camp’s bowls and such out her periphery. She turned her full attention to her armor, pulling one piece off at a time, examining it for damage, and then putting it back on before moving to the next piece. She’d only finished her arms when Bofur and the Idiot returned, Bofur looking gleeful and the idiot with water splashed up his sleeves past his elbows and down the front of his soft, brown coat, the fur at his collar matted down in small patches.

She tore her eyes away when Bifur greeted his cousin and The Idiot. Sigrid returned to checking her armor. When she’d finished, she started scanning her people, looking for evidence of any injuries they’d been hiding earlier. She looked them over from head to toe. If her eyes lingered a bit longer on The Idiot, it was only because she didn’t know him and thus didn’t know how good he was at hiding pain. It had absolutely nothing to do with how well his clothing seemed to fit his lean, strong figure, or the way his grin seemed to be holding back some distant worry, or how, even sprawled casually on the ground instead of sitting on the log at his back like a normal person, he looked completely composed and attractive, like he was on the most comfortable bed, not the hard-packed earth with rocks and roots digging into uncomfortable places.

“Make up all the excuses you want to fool yourself. You’re not fooling me.”

Sigrid glared at Nori as he plopped down to sit next to her, his pipe in hand. She didn’t bother to respond, knowing that Nori would just twist her words around to incriminate her.

Nori, however, was never one to be deterred. For the next hour, he sat next to her and nudged, and wheedled, and teased her for not keeping her eyes solely on her armor. Every time she so much as glanced in The Idiot’s general direction, Nori went off on a new round of jokes and teasing.

“Would you give it a rest already?” Sigrid demanded after the second hour started. “I have more important things to do than indulge your sudden fascination with who or what I may be observing.”

Nori’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not normally this irritable. Something wrong? Besides your inability to keep your eyes off Fee, I mean.”

Sigrid heaved a sigh. “One of the Littles looked like Til,” she confessed quietly, for his ears only. Her mind flashed back to the captives they’d freed earlier that day. The youngest was a little girl with ashy brown hair and eyes almost too big for her face. They were brown instead of the blue-green she shared with her sister, but the girl had been too similar to Tilda. 

Nori sobered. “No wonder,” he murmured. “Sorry, Sig. I shouldn’t have pestered you so much.”

She snorted softly. “Of course you should have. Just think how much grimmer I’d be if you weren’t here to pester me with your insane commentary about a dwarf I’ve only had a few words with, and all of them scathing.”

“You remind me too much of your da when you get that way,” he admitted with a mock shudder.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Leave my poor old da out of this,” she said with a small smile. “He’s got enough to think about without being mocked for his demeanor.”

“Right, right,” Nori said, flapping a hand dismissively. “I still should have taken a hint and let it go, for now at least.”

“For now,” Sigrid agreed, looking back at the vambrace she’d been inspecting for damage.

“Tomorrow you’re fair game though,” Nori grinned. Sigrid sighed.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings are the worst
> 
> Legolas and Nori get along too well
> 
> Nori tries. He really does

Chapter 4

Nori did not disappoint on his promise. Instead of greeting Sigrid with a bright or even mumbled ‘Good Morning’ like the rest of their band, he bounded over to her with a sunny grin and a “So, how early did you wake up in order to climb out of Fee’s bedroll and back into your hammock before anyone noticed?”

Sigrid reached out and smacked Nori on the back of the head without looking up from her toasted slice of last night’s bread topped with a few slices of bacon, fried tomatoes, and a fried egg, the yolk just soft enough to add moisture but not so runny that it dripped from her breakfast. Her mug of tea didn’t wobble on its precariously balanced position on her thigh. “It’s too early for your shenanigans,” she groused, air puffing in front of her in the spring cool. She had one of her blankets wrapped around her shoulders. The rest of her gear was already packed and waiting for them to leave for the day.

“Right. How could I forget? Rule number nine. Never bother The Captain before her second cup of tea on cold mornings.”

“There are rules?”

Sigrid tried not to tense. She really did, and it really was a testament of how poorly she’d slept and how much she hated early mornings and the cold that she hadn’t noticed The Idiot move from his position over by Bofur and Bifur on the far side of camp.

“Oh sure,” Nori said, leaning back to look up at The Idiot from where he stood behind them. “There’s about twenty-nine, last time I counted.”

Sigrid glanced over her shoulder long enough to see The Idiot’s eyebrows rise in surprise. And was that a hint of trepidation as well? “And what’s the number one rule?” he asked.

“Don’t harm your own people,” Sigrid said, picked up her mug from where it sat on her leg, and stood. She nodded at Nori briefly and walked over to Bombur, hoping he’d brewed a stronger pot of tea. 

Behind her, she could hear Nori snickering behind her. “See what I mean?”

Once she’d acquired a fresh cup of tea, Sigrid moved over to the treeline, staring out through the branches into the depths of Greenwood. Legolas should be returning soon. It didn’t take the elves too long to travel to the palace, even if they were dragging prisoners along with them.

The truth was, she hadn’t slept well. It may actually take an extra cup of tea or two before she was fit to be around. Either that or Legolas’ dry humor and good company. For all his years, he still managed to relate to her and some of the struggles she dealt with on a personal level. Other than her own family and Nori, Legolas knew her best. Unlike Nori, she could trust Legolas not to tease her about the dreams she’d had the night before or the crush she apparently needed to get over and quickly.

And the Valar knew she’d tried to get over it. She’d only seen the Golden Prince of Erebor one time. And she’d barely been fourteen at the time, attending her first formal party. It was just her rotten luck that the first one she went to had to have ended disastrously in an attempt to assassinate the entirety of Erebor’s royal line.

She heaved a sigh and took a sip of her tea. She’d only seen the prince for a few moments, hadn’t even had a chance to be introduced before the attack started, hadn’t said a single word to him. He’d only said a single word to her and still…

Sigrid growled and downed the last of her tea.

She needed to let this go.

She’d been trying ever since that night.

She couldn’t get that easy smile out of her head, blurred slightly with the years that had passed. She couldn’t quite remember the exact depth of his voice, the golden tones to his hair, the patterns in his braids, the blue of his eyes. 

Her chest ached with the pull she’d felt since that night. For some reason, it had started hurting more over the last few days, no longer staying in the background of her awareness. She rubbed at the hollow feeling, trying to ease the throbbing tug.

She needed more tea.

“Something the matter Little Bird?”

Sigrid glanced up the tree she leaned against. Legolas sat on the branch just above her reach, his feet dangling just above her head. If he pointed his toes, they’d brush against her hair.

“Welcome back,” she said and dropped her hand back to her side. “Any troubles?”

“No more than usual,” Legolas said and dropped to the ground beside her with an easy twist of his body. “They won’t be much more of a problem to anyone anymore.”

Sigrid nodded.

“Tell me what bothers you,” Legolas coaxed and leaned against the tree’s trunk, the picture of casual grace and ease. His motions were precise but unhurried.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted and frowned at the empty bottom of her mug.

“First cup of the day?” he asked, his lips twitching upwards.

“Second,” she groused and started back toward camp.

Legolas shifted just enough to barely block her path. “Talk first?” he asked.

Sigrid glanced forlornly back towards camp. “Tea make brain work gooder," she muttered but then looked back at Legolas. "Dreams again,” she admitted, knowing he would understand.

He nodded, his expression only shifting slightly towards the realm of concerned. “They’ve been increasing lately, haven’t they?”

She nodded.

“And the pain?” he asked, his eyes going to her hand where she was once again absently rubbing at that empty, pulling throb. 

“Won’t leave,” she said. "Won't fade."

The slightest lifting of his eyebrows made her shift uncomfortably. “And you won’t come to the palace with me to see our healers?”

She shook her head. “We’ve too much to do,” she hedged. “Next time we end up there looking for rumors I’ll see someone, I promise.” Nevermind that they rarely bothered with going to Thranduil’s stronghold. Very few slaver caravans dared go in the woods, let alone near the city, afraid of the rumors of the magic some elves possessed. They only ever went if rumors already pointed them in that direction.

Legolas’s expression cleared. “Then we should start our search for new prey,” he said and shifted aside so she could head back to camp.

When they returned to camp, everyone was awake and almost everyone had finished stowing their belongings. She tried not to make a point to check and see if The Idiot was done, but she soon caught sight of him. She needed to make sure their newest member wasn’t going to hold up their movements after all. To her surprise, not only was he packed, but he also carried Bombur’s large stew pot.

Nori appeared at her side and handed her a mug of tea. “Drink quick,” he suggested. “You’ve only a few minutes before everyone’s finished getting ready.”

Sigrid took the mug and downed it in one long drink. She handed it back and shook her head and shoulders out, trying to get her exhausted brain to catch up to the heat from the herbal teas spreading warmth through her cold limbs. She retrieved her own pack, waited for the last two bedrolls to be strapped into place, and the last couple packs to be slung onto their owner’s backs.

“We’re off to Dale,” she told them and started her way through the trees, following the edge of the forest along paths Legolas had shown her, keeping an eye on the road they walked near. Behind her, chatter slowly started up as those in her group finished waking up with their increase in movement. She glanced back, to do a headcount of course. Everyone had fallen into line, The Idiot walking next to Bifur, his hands moving in the complicated language Sigrid still only had a rudimentary understanding of, even after almost a year of Bofur and Bifur teaching her around the fire in the evenings.

“You’d be more believable if you’d stop looking for him,” Nori quipped from her side.

“Oh?” Legolas asked. “Has she finally found interest in someone else?”

“I’ll say!” Nori practically cheered. “The lad who had his sides mixed up yesterday. He’s all straightened out and golden now.”

Sigrid groaned. Legolas knew and was in one of his moods. The comments wouldn’t stop for a while now.

* * *

They reached Dale late that day. As they approached the walls, Nori caught back up to Sigrid.

“Sure you don’t want to go in this time? See your family?”

She shook her head. “I was just there last month. If I show up too often, Da and Til will worry that something’s gone wrong. Besides, others should have the chance to visit civilization.”

“I really think you should go see them,” Nori said. “You never know what interesting things they may have to tell you.”

“I’m not going,” Sigrid said. “If you’re so curious as to their news, you go talk to them. Da likes you well enough.” She dropped her pack, signaling for the others to start setting up a camp. “Take The Idiot with you,” she added. “Something about him leaves me on edge. Keep an eye on him, make sure he’s not going to stab us all in our sleep.”

Nori’s shoulders slumped a bit. “Aye Captain,” he said and turned away.

“I’m not your captain!” Sigrid called after his retreating back. To herself, she mumbled, “What’s got the snarl in his braids?” before going to attend to her duties with setting up camp with the others while Nori, The Idiot, Bofur and two others went into Dale to find what rumors they could of disappearing people, children especially.

She settled in next to the campfire, holding the bowl of chicken and rice Bombur had given her. She let the warm wood heat her cold fingers. She’d apparently abandoned her heavier clothing too early in the year. A shiver worked its way up her spine and she scooted closer to the fire.

“Why did you refuse to go into Dale?”

Sigrid leaned to the side and looked up. “Sit. You’re too tall when I’m not standing.”

Legolas took the spot next to her. Most everyone else was already wrapped in their bedrolls, leaving them alone by the fire.

She shrugged in response to his question. “It’s not fair if I go into Dale every time we stop here,” she said. “I draw too much attention too. The last thing we need is for someone to realize Dale’s princess is out hunting slavers. We can move a lot easier if people don’t know that I’m out and about instead of safe at home in Dale.”

“That’s not all of it,” Legolas accused, sprawling his legs out in front of him. “What do you have against the new dwarf, other than the obvious.”

Sigrid shifted uncomfortably. “I hate how observant you are when you want to be,” she groused. He looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Something about him doesn’t feel normal like there’s something there that I’m missing.”

Legolas’s eyes widened slightly and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Finally giving up on the Golden Prince you’ve admired for a quarter of your life.”

“More than a quarter,” Sigrid told him and sighed. “I don’t even want to think about the possibility right now. Please?”

Legolas shrugged. “As you like,” he said. “Just know I will listen when you do want to talk.”

She nodded and went back to staring into the fire and slowly eating her cooling food.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili's confused.
> 
> Nori's in his element.
> 
> Fili's annoyed.

Chapter 5

Fili entered Dale with trepidation. Nori walked along beside him, his hands shoved into his pockets and his posture relaxed. Around them, men, elves, and dwarrow went about their business. Children raced underfoot, shouting and laughing in their games.

“What am I doing here?” Fili asked as they strolled into the main market.

“Listening for rumors of missing children,” Nori said as he approached a stall to examine the sweet buns on display beneath a little mesh dome meant to keep the bugs away.

Fili shook his head. “That’s what you’re doing. Why did The Captain send me along as well?”

Nori flipped the baker a coin and took two of the pastries. He handed one to Fili and started devouring his own. “You make her uncomfortable,” he said around a mouthful of sweetness, cinnamon, and dried fruit-filled deliciousness.

Breaking a piece of the bun off and examining it without seeing, Fili hunched his shoulders a bit. “I said I was sorry for hurting those two dwarrow.” The ache in his chest had eased a bit since he entered Dale. His one was nearby, but he was moving away from them. Where were they?

“That’s not it,” Nori told him and then taking in Fili’s irritated look, he amended. “That’s not entirely it. She doesn’t like seeing any of us get hurt but she understands the risks too. No, you put her on edge.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t if she would actually  _ talk _ to me,” Fili grumbled. “I’d like to get to know her.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to know her  _ very _ well soon enough,” Nori said, a chuckle in his voice. “Whether the two of you want to or not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fili asked only to realize Nori had stopped and was leaning against the fountain in the middle of the square, his head tipped to the side as he listened. He motioned for Fili to come back to him. “What is it?” Fili asked quietly.

“Might be a lead,” Nori said brightly. “Why don’t you tell me why you want to get to know Captain better while I eavesdrop. Make it look like we’re having an actual conversation.”

“Do you just want me to move my mouth so you can hear easier?” Fili asked. “Who are you listening to anyway?”

“The woman in the green dress behind my left shoulder. She’s mentioned a Maude a few times now, expressing regret over the ‘Lost Little.’ If she’ll hurry and say if it was kidnapping or death, we can move on to the next step. Keep talking. If someone realizes you’re not making sound, it looks even more suspicious and the last thing we need is for the wrong person to realize we’re not who we seem to be.”

‘I’m not very good at talking without a purpose,” Fili said, racking his brain for something, anything to blather on about. “Can I just start reciting the Soldier’s Code of Conduct or something?” he asked.

“Works as well as anything,” Nori replied. “Just don’t look too vacant as you do.”

Fili nodded and started, the Code rolling off his tongue easily. All soldiers had to memorize it as a constant reminder of how they were expected to act while serving in the Ereborian military. He’d made it to about the fifteenth point when Nori’s stance shifted.

“That’s enough. We’re leaving.” He turned on his heel and started heading into the city. “We’ve work to do, and quickly. Follow me.”

They hurried through the streets until Nori finally came to a stop at a backdoor in an alley close to the main square. He gave a distinctive six knock pattern and waited, his hands making odd motions. It took Fili a minute to recognize Nori pulling his knives from the sheathes at his wrists and putting them back repeatedly even though it was a habit Fili had as well.

Finally, the door opened. A tall man with greying brown hair stood there. When he saw Nori standing there, his already unhappy expression deepened. “You’ve heard then,” he commented and motioned for Nori to enter.

Fili followed Nori into the building. From the smattering of people he saw walking in the attached mess hall to the kitchen where they’d just come inside and the uniforms they wore, they’d come to one of Dale’s constabularies. 

“How bad is it?” Nori asked without preamble, leaning against the high counter where the man now chopped carrots.

“Three missing. A caravan just came through this last week. They left early this morning and the Littles were reported missing within the same hour.”

“Three’s not many,” Nori pointed out. “That many kids wander off and are found within the same day all the time.”

Fili felt the blood drain from his face. Children. The slavers had taken children.

“Not within the same section of the city,” the man said, “and not these kids. They’re pretty kids, all three, with cautious parents that have taught them how to not be easy targets.”

Nori nodded. “Right. Where are they headed, any idea?”

“Laketown,” the man said. “Whether they keep that course or not, well, I’ll leave that to you to find out.”

“Thanks, Cobber,” Nori said and handed him a few coins. “We’ll bring the Littles back.”

“I know,” the man, now identified as Cobber said with a crooked grin. “You and that Captain of yours hold a grudge bigger than all Arda. Nothing gets beyond you two anymore.”

“Right. We’re off.”

“Give ‘em a good wallop for me, if you don’t mind.”

Nori waved a hand over his head and led Fili back out into the alley. He turned immediately and started running in another direction. Before Fili could catch up and ask where they were going, Nori darted into a well-kept stable.

Looking around while Nori disappeared shouting someone’s name, he realized something rather important. The horses here weren’t just the average merchant’s horses or ones that drew the carts for city workers. A lovely white-grey stallion nuzzled at his shirt pockets, searching, he assumed, for some sort of treat. He looked the horse over, admiring the fine shine to the coat, the strength in its muscles, and the obvious care given to him.

“Fee.”

Fili turned to see Nori coming back with a human at his side. “This is Fergus the Hostler. You’ll help him get the horses ready and bring them to the east gate, fast as you can.”

Fili nodded at the man. “Where will you be?”

“Gathering those that can ride,” Nori said. “Be quick.” He darted out of the stable.

“You know your way around a horse lad?” the hostler asked, already leading him toward a room full of fine saddles and bridles.

“Pony, actually,” Fili said. He spied a crate off to one side and pointed at it. “If you’ll let me borrow that, I should be all right to help though.”

The man nodded and pulled down a stack of saddle blankets. He dumped them in Fili’s arms and led him back out to the stalls. “Put the blankets on the doors where I tell you. Then we’ll grab saddles and bridles. Not that one,” he said, nodding at the stallion Fili had been admiring. “The king won’t appreciate it if his horse goes missing when he needs him.”

Fili stared at Fergus’ back and then looked back at the horse. King Bard’s horse. That meant… He looked at the others around him. Which one belonged to the princess he was supposed to marry?

“Come along,” Fergus said. “You don’t have time to dawdle. Your captain will have my head if we take longer than necessary.”

Fili hurried to catch up, placing blankets as Fergus indicated. “Which is hers? The Captain’s I mean.”

“That would be her there,” Fergus said, nodding at a beautiful blue roan mare. “Stardust.”

Fili set his last blanket over the stall door and reached to pat Stardust’s nose gently. She turned her head to take him in with one large, dark eye. After a moment, she turned her head quickly, giving him a good shove.

“Oi!” he cried, laughing and reaching to rub at her ears. She dropped her head to oblige him a moment and then shook out her black mane as if to remind him that he had work to do.

“Yes girl,” he said, patting her soft nose before rushing back to the tack room to retrieve the first saddle.

They worked quickly, saddling six horses in all. As soon as they were ready, Fergus swung himself up into the saddle of a large chestnut, holding the leads to two more of the horses. “Come on, lad. We don’t have all day.”

Fili eyed the three horses left. “Will The Captain be angry if I ride Stardust?” he asked. The blue roan was the shortest of the three, only by a little. He could make do with the pretty buckskin to his left if he had to.

“She’ll be angrier if you keep taking so long,” Fergus said. “Up you get. Let’s go.”

Fili led Stardust over to the box he’d used when working to saddle the horses. He adjusted the stirrups to the right length (feeling a little foolish that they had to be on one of the shortest notches) and used the crate to give himself the height to reach the stirrup. He pushed up into the saddle and took up the reins in one hand, holding the leads for the other two horses in the other.

They rode through the city. Fili kept his head down, hoping no one high ranking from Erebor saw him. The last thing he needed was someone taking the word back to his great-grandfather that he was out, riding full-grown horses into the Wilds around Dale, chasing down slavers with a group that, as far as Fili could tell, wasn’t ruled by any of the kingdoms.

He fought to stay on Stardust’s back. The mare moved easily with a smooth gait beneath him but her size made it difficult for him to stay seated. He missed Obsidian. His black pony, though slightly large for her kind to help accommodate the fact that most Durin’s were tall for dwarrow, was much smaller than the mare he now rode.

They drew near the east gates to Dale before too long. They passed through and it didn’t take Fili long to find Nori and The Captain waiting nearby with another nine fighters. At least five of them were either elf or human. Fili relaxed a little. If he did stay with everyone, he wouldn’t be the one holding the reins, giving him the ability to concentrate on keeping his seat.

Fergus drew his horses to a halt, Fili a few paces behind him and started to dismount. 

“Fee!” Nori called and Fili looked over at him. “Thanks for helping Fergus with the horses. You’re a real Prince.” Fili glared at Nori, the pit of his stomach dropping at the words. If Nori wasn’t careful, he’d give Fili away.

Luckily, T he Captain came forward and snatched Stardust’s reins from his hands, drawing attention away from him and Nori and back to the upcoming chase. Fili stepped back as all the tall folk swung into the saddles and reached down to help their shorter companions up behind or in front of them. 

“You may ride with me, Master Fisrin.”

Fili looked up at the blond elf that had walked with The Captain almost the entire day, talking with her and Nori with a small smile on his face and laughter in his eyes.

“Thank you, Master...” Fili said.

The elf smiled, amusement on his face. “Prince,” he corrected. “Legolas of the Woodland Realm.”

Fili’s expression froze. No wonder the elf had seemed familiar. He’d met him once, around fifty years ago. Did Legolas recognize him as well? He couldn’t tell. Elves could be hard to read. Steeling himself, Fili reached up to take the elf’s hand. The elf pulled him easily into the saddle behind him. Fili settled in, making sure his swords were easily accessible, should the need arise.

“Move out!” The Captain called and turned Stardust down the road. Fili didn’t have time to worry about Legolas remembering him. He grabbed Legolas around the waist with one arm and kept his other hand on a throwing knife, just in case. Just because he was paranoid didn’t mean there wasn’t a group of slavers out there lying in wait to attack them when they least expected it.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid is impatient
> 
> Nori is smug
> 
> Bard needs to talk

Chapter 6

“Where are they?” Sigrid snapped, pacing back and forth by Dale’s eastern gates. “You did tell The Idiot he needed to hurry, right?”

Nori sent his dagger flipping into the air, eyes following it. “I told him. They’ll be here as soon as they get the beasts saddled.”

“Next time, send back for someone tall enough to saddle horses.”

“He’s taller than most dwarrow,” Nori pointed out. “A little box and he’ll be good as gold.” He slid the knife home and watched her closely, as if expecting some sort of response. He sighed when Sigrid stared back at him in annoyance and went back to pacing.

Finally, Fergus rode out of the gates with two horses trailing behind him. Neither they, nor the one Fergus rode was Stardust. She turned to ask him where her horse was when The Idiot came out on horseback, leading two more behind him. On Stardust to be exact.

Her horse.

Who hated EVERYONE except Sigrid and Fergus.

Who had bitten her father the last time he’d tried to ride her.

She loved her horse.

But why in the name of all the Valar was Stardust allowing The Idiot to ride her without so much as a twitch? Her gait even seemed smooth and easy. Normally, if Stardust wasn't too thrilled with something, she'd adopt a particularly bouncy, bone-jarring gait. The Idiot barely shifted in the saddle. Either that, or he was a better rider than Sigrid expected him to be.

It didn’t make sense.

“Fee!”

Sigrid flinched and shot a quick glare at Nori for startling her. He ignored her and stepped forward to take the reins for the other two horses from The Idiot. “Thanks for helping Fergus with the horses. You’re a real prince.”

The look The Idiot shot Nori seemed a bit excessive for taking so long, but Sigrid decided not to press the issue. They had other matters to attend to. Once The Idiot clambered down from Stardust’s back, she stepped forward and snatched the reins before swinging into the saddle. She motioned for Nori to hurry and get up in front of her.

Everyone else took this as the cue to retrieve their own mounts. Out of the corner of her eye, Sigrid saw Legolas offer The Idiot a hand. Another person she trusted to make sure the unease she felt towards The Idiot wasn’t something to worry about. Good.

“Move out!” She called once everyone was on horseback. She turned Stardust down the road, nudging her into a trot, hoping to shorten the lead the caravan had on them. With any luck, they would catch up to them before they reached Laketown. The last thing she needed was to have to deal with The Master's attempts to waylay her.

They rode as hard as they dared. The fresher the horses were when they caught up, the better. The didn't need one of them stumbling during a battle.

It took a few hours, but just before the sun started to dip low enough to start dimming their view of the landscape, they caught up to the caravan. As they drew nearer, Legolas stood in his stirrups. The Idiot grimaced and hung onto the saddle all the tighter, leaning to the side to see around Legolas’s hip.

“They’ve guards,” Legolas called. “Trained and well-armed. The caravaners are also armed. Some look like they know what they’re doing with their swords too.”

“How many total?” Sigrid called, squinting at the distant wagons.

“Twenty-seven are in the open. There are probably more inside the wagons.”

Sigrid nodded and handed her reins to Nori. She pulled her longbow off her shoulders and nocked an arrow to the string. She looked over at Legolas, waiting for him to decide they were in range of their bows. He too had his bow and an arrow at the ready.

Finally, Legolas lifted his bow and drew. Sigrid followed suit, angling slightly high to hopefully get a little more distance from her shot. It was harder to aim this way and she’d probably be lucky if she hit someone properly, but she’d still take the shot. She released her breath and the arrow just after Legolas released his.

She missed hitting any of the caravaners. But she did manage to sink her shot into the meaty flesh at the neck of one of their oxen, just behind the yoke. It bellowed in pain and thrashed, sending it and the ox next to it crashing to the ground.

Legolas’s arrow dropped one of the caravaners.

If she’d had a few centuries to practice her archery, she’d have hit someone too.

She focused again, nocking a new arrow and shooting again. This time a caravaner screamed in pain and dropped, her arrow in his thigh.

Chaos reigned for a few moments in the caravan as Legolas and Sigrid continued to fire as they approached, now at a gallop. As they thundered into the caravan, Nori wrapped Stardust’s reins loosely around the saddle’s pommel and threw himself from the saddle and onto a caravan guard racing toward them with a sword raised. Blood splattered from the fresh knife wound to his neck as Nori rolled away.

Sigrid slung her bow back onto her shoulders and drew her sword from her hip. She leaned over in the saddle, taking a club on her blade before kicking out, smashing the man’s nose with her boot heel.

Stardust reared and lashed out with her hooves. Sigrid shifted her weight, grabbed hold of the reins, and leaned back just enough to stab the shoulder of another man trying to pull her from the saddle.

Stardust’s flailing hooves drove back the enemy long enough to let Sigrid glance around. Most of those that were too short to easily ride on horseback had already dismounted, now fighting on the ground. Nori darted in and out from around the wagons, using them as cover as he snuck up on unsuspecting men fighting her people. Bofur smashed into those around him with his mattock, sending one man back a good ten feet with one powerful swing. She took in other members of her Company, making sure no one needed help while she had a moment.

A quick glance showed Legolas still remained on his horse, his own sword flashing in the late afternoon sun and dripping blood as he systematically worked his way through anyone foolish enough to come too close to him.

The Idiot wasn’t behind him anymore.

Sigrid look around frantically even as she nudged Stardust’s sides. The mare dropped down on all four hooves again and Sigrid spun her, searching.

The Idiot stood braced, a pair of swords held easily in his hands and his expression grim. Four caravan guards surrounded him. Blood splattered his leather coat and the fur peeking out at the collar.

Sigrid cursed, feeling too far away to help and too busy fighting off her own attackers. Even with Stardust to help her wade through the mass of shifting fighters, she wouldn’t reach The Idiot in time.

The first guard surged forward at The Idiot and the other three followed half a second later.

Sigrid glanced down to stab the guard trying to chop her leg off with his sword. She caught his blade on hers and drove her dagger into the junction between his neck and shoulder before kicking him back.

She looked back at The Idiot. He bared his teeth in a snarl at the caravan guard in front of him, their sword caught on his. He swung his second sword, slicing across their belly. They howled, in rage or pain Sigrid couldn’t tell, and dropped back. The Idiot followed. He spun and his sword came down on the guard’s shoulder, biting deep. He kicked them off his blade and ducked, turned, and came back up with his grip on one of his swords reversed. He slammed the hilt into the second guard’s chin so hard Sigrid could swear she heard their jaw shatter from where she sat. The Idiot stepped back half a step and shifted to block the sword swinging at hi-

Stardust reared again, fending off the woman she’d allowed to get too close in her focus on The Idiot. With a wordless yell, Sigrid launched herself out of the saddle at the woman before she could stab Stardust.

The woman rolled, shoving Sigrid aside and scrambling to her feet. Sigrid twisted away and stood as well, sword at the ready. Stardust stayed nearby. She shifted away from anyone that got too near, rearing on occasion to urge them away.

Sigrid slashed in, stepping forward. The woman met her and they traded blows until finally, Sigrid saw an opening. She spun, hit the woman in the cheek with her elbow, and ended up behind her. She swung her sword as hard as she could. It sank deep into the woman’s rib cage. She tried to pull her sword free, pushing the body off with her foot, but it didn’t budge.

A guard shouted in triumph and charged toward her.

“Nori!” she yelled, looking to the side, knowing he wouldn’t be far. He glanced at her from where he fought, his knives crossed to take the weight of the guard forcing him down. Too busy then. Sigrid tried to jerk her sword free again with more urgency. She looked toward the guard again and back to her sword. When had she lost her dagger again?

“Captain! Catch!”

Sigrid instantly reached out and caught the knife. The Idiot raced by her without further word to help Nori.

The balance felt good in her hand and she ducked the attacker's first swing. She came up inside his guard and buried the knife hilt deep into his neck. She yanked it back out and turned back to her sword. Another few jerks and she had it free.

She spun and shouted for Stardust. The mare trotted over to her, blood staining her front hooves and some of her coat but unharmed. Sigrid swung back into the saddle and waded back into the fight.

They subdued the last of the caravan members. Breathing heavily, Sigrid dismounted and started moving among the other eleven members of her Company. They seemed relatively unharmed with only minor cuts and bruises.

“How many times do I have to remind you to bind your wounds before you bleed out?” Nori asked and handed her a strip of bandages from one of the many pockets in his coat.

“What?” She asked and looked down at herself. A cut in her calf bled sluggishly. “Would you look at that,” she said and bent over to wrap it.

“So,” Nori asked, crouching next to her. “What’d you think of him?”

“Hmm?” she asked, concentrating on making sure she tied the bandage correctly. “Who?”

“Fee.”

Sigrid immediately looked up, her fingers slipping on the cloth in her hands. The Idiot stood at the back of one of the wagons, entertaining one of the children they’d recovered by juggling a couple of rocks he’d picked up. The little boy laughed and clapped, the tears on his face forgotten for the moment.

“He does well enough,” she admitted. Internally, she heaved a grudging sigh. Truth be told, he fought better than anyone she’d ever met, with the exception of the elves that had spent most of their centuries-long lives fighting. Not only had he managed to take on four large, trained human caravan guards and won, but he’d also not questioned her abilities to fight when she’d gotten her sword stuck. He’d just tossed her a knife, expecting her to catch it and defend herself properly with it.

She looked at the knife now tucked into her belt, admiring the fine workmanship. “Better than well enough,” she admitted. “He’s a good fighter.”

Nori grinned widely. “Aye. He’s a real lion in battle.”

“He does fight fiercely,” she conceded, remembering the way he bared his teeth and roared at the guards. The Idiot was all coiled grace and economy of movement and ease in his own abilities. She looked at the knife again and finished tying off her bandage. With the adrenaline of the fight leaving her system, she started to feel the pain of the wound.

She limped over to The Idiot and held his knife out to him, hilt first. “Thank you,” she said, “for the knife, and not thinking I couldn’t take care of the guard myself.”

He took the knife and tucked it away… somewhere. How many weapons did he have hidden on him?

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I didn’t see any reason to intervene. You had matters handled.” He looked up and their eyes met.

Sigrid nodded and turned away, disquiet racing through her mind. His eyes were familiar. Similar to the Golden Prince’s, but greyer than she remembered. Too many similarities, she thought. Too much time had passed since she’d actually seen the Prince. Her mind was playing tricks again. The ache in her chest pounded fiercely and she resisted the urge to rub at it. She didn't want Legolas dragging her away from her work for a pointless examination from the wood elves.

She shook the thoughts off and went to start preparing to take the children back to Dale.

* * *

Since it was dark, she took the risk of taking Stardust back to the stable herself. Fergus met her and Legolas just outside the stable. “Your father’s here, Your Highness,” he greeted.

“Da?” she asked and looked behind Fergus. Sure enough, King Bard the Bowman looked up from saddling Snowball.

“Sigrid!” he said, his face lighting up in a rare smile. He stepped around Snowball who huffed a sigh and shifted his stance.

After handing Stardust’s reins and the reins of the other two mounts over to Fergus, she moved forward to embrace her father. “How are you?” she asked.

“Better than you, it seems,” Bard said and looked down at her leg.

“Just a scratch, Da,” she said. “I’ll have Oin look it over when we get back to camp, just to be safe.”

“Good girl,” he said and suddenly his face turned sober again. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m here now,” she said.

Bard looked around the stable and Sigrid noticed some of his guards for the first time. All of them were saddling horses. 

“Where are you going?” she asked. “It’s so late.”

“King Thror has asked for a meeting first thing in the morning. I didn’t receive the notice until after council meetings today-”

“Which went over,” she chorused with him, nodding.

“I’m leaving now and I’ll stay the night in Erebor rather than risk being late. The king's been unwell lately and I don’t want to cause any unneeded tension by a perceived slight.”

“I understand,” Sigrid said. “What is it you want to talk about?”

Bard looked at his guards again and then back at Sigrid. “I’d rather speak in private,” he told her. “Will you stay home? Just until I can come back from Erebor? I shouldn’t be more than a week.”

“I’m sorry, Da. I can’t. We have a new lead on the corruption that’s allowing slavers into Dale, Laketown, and Erebor.”

Bard’s lips thinned and he looked behind him. “Promise me you’ll come back to Dale as soon as possible and stay for at least a week. It’s very important.”

“I’ll come back,” she promised, “but I can’t promise I’ll stay.”

“Your Majesty, we’re ready to leave.”

Bard nodded to the guard that stood nearby and looked back at Sigrid. “I’ll see you in a week then.”

“Of course, Da. Safe travels.”

Bard swung up into Snowball’s saddle. “You be safe,” he ordered. “Have Oin look at your leg.”

Sigrid smiled. “Yes, Da. I’ll see you soon.” She stepped out of the way and, with a final nod, Bard and his entourage rode out of the stables, leaving Sigrid to wonder what it was her father needed to talk to her about. Shrugging, she moved to unsaddle Stardust. She’d find out in a week.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori has news
> 
> Fili needs to know
> 
> The Captain speaks

Chapter 7

Nori slipped into camp in the early morning hours, just as the sun started to peek over the horizon. Fili saw him coming from his position just outside where the firelight had been cast before the sun started to rise. Nori waved a greeting and went straight to where The Captain lay in a hammock strung between two trees on the edge of the camp.

“He’s found something.”

Fili looked up at Legolas, trying not to show how much the elf had startled him. 

“It would seem so,” Fili agreed, remembering the slight swagger to Nori’s walk and the smirk tugging at his lips.

“The sun is high enough. I doubt anyone will try to sneak up on us. Let’s find out what it is.”

Fili followed Legolas over to where The Captain sat up in her hammock, rubbing at her face and moving carefully so she didn’t dump herself out of her swinging bed. “Early. Tea,” she groaned through her hands.

“Focus Captain,” Nori said. “You can have tea later. I’ve found the link to Laketown.”

The Captain peeked at Nori from behind her fingers before suddenly shifting to get out of her hammock. “Why didn’t you say so?” she demanded. She dropped her feet into her boots and climbed to her feet. “Tell us everything.”

“Even Fee?” Nori asked, his eyebrows up in a bit of a challenge.

“Yes, even Fee. Can’t very well continue to distrust him entirely, not after he saved your neck last night.”

“That’s fair,” Nori said as they gathered around the remains of the fire. The Captain moved to stoke the flames and then swung an old but sturdy kettle over the fire. Fili heard liquid sloshing inside. It made sense to keep it filled with a leader that seemed to have a fairly high tea dependency in the mornings.

Once they’d settled around the fire, waiting for the water to boil, The Captain turned to Nori. “What did you learn?” she asked with a yawn.

Nori held his hands out in front of the flames, trying to warm his fingers. “I’ve got a contact in Dale. She said a member of the caravan we just took last night drank a little too heavily in the pub a few nights ago. He’s a talker apparently and more than willing to tell anything a pretty lass wants to know.”

“Men and their drink,” Legolas said with a bit of despair. “When will they ever learn?”

“Hush,” The Captain ordered and looked back at Nori. “What else did your contact say?”

“The Man she spoke to said they’d come from Laketown, that The Master himself signed their papers of free trade that allowed them into Dale. Of course, that was after they promised to split some of the profits from whatever cargo they found in Dale, but it seemed like a good deal to the Man.”

The Captain grinned. “Well done, Nori.”

“I live to serve,” Nori quipped.

After casting a dark glare at Nori, The Captain turned towards Legolas. “How long do you think it would take you to find those papers among their belongings?”

“A few hours at the most, as long as the guards don’t hinder my progress and allow me access to the caravan’s belongings,” Legolas said. “If they’re as organized as they should be, it may only take a matter of minutes.”

“Good,” The Captain said, her grin widening. “I want to get that slimy excuse of a human being once and for all.”

“As you command,” Legolas said, sweeping an ironic bow far too deep for someone of common birth, even if she did lead their Company. He didn’t waste any time and bounded away, heading toward Dale with an easy lope that would eat up the distance with ease. 

“I’m off for a nap,” Nori said, stretching. “Wake me when we’re about ready to move on.”

The Captain rummaged around in the bags near the fire until she found a dented mug painted a sage green. “We’re not moving on unless we hear of more slavers or until Legolas returns with the papers we need.”

“Wonderful,” Nori said. “Wake me for lunch then.” He walked over to his pack, laid out his bedroll, crawled in, and was snoring by the time the water in the kettle came to a boil.

“He can fall asleep faster than anyone I’ve ever met,” The Captain grumbled, going about making tea for herself.

“Most dwarves are that way,” Fili said absently.

She looked up at him and he wondered if she’d forgotten he was there. “You’re welcome to get some sleep too,” she said and yawned.

Fili shook his head. “I was on watch until Nori got back. I won’t be able to fall asleep now.”

She shrugged and started sipping her tea after a few minutes, staring into the flames.

“Not going back to sleep yourself?” Fili asked.

“What’s the point?” she countered.

“I’m told most Women value their beauty rest.”

She snorted in reply. “Then you better climb back into your bedroll.”

Fili’s jaw dropped. “ _ Excuse _ me,” he said, all overly-injured dignity. “I’ll have you know I’m quite handsome to my people.”

“Are you?” She countered, hiding behind her mug. “From what I’ve been told, Nori is considered the epitome of dwarfish good looks and the two of you have very little in common in that area.” She took a sip of her tea, the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly, giving away her mirth.

He opened his mouth to point out that blond hair placed him above any other dwarf just for its shine alone before quickly remembering the much less flattering color he currently bore. Instead, he huffed indignantly. “You’ve no taste.” He turned his nose up into the air as she chuckled between sips of tea.

* * *

They waited. Legolas did not return that morning nor even that afternoon. Fili spent the day trying to distract himself from the numerous questions swirling around in his head. He cleaned and mended his clothing and armor that he’d worn during the fight the night before as a distraction. 

When he finished with that, he stepped away from the camp a short distance and took out a few throwing knives. He made himself a target and started practicing. The repetitive motions helped soothe his mind but also gave it too much room to think. He moved to a greater distance from his targets, forcing himself to concentrate more on the task at hand and less on the mystery that The Captain personified. 

He worked until his arms ached before taking a break for some lunch. After eating, he retreated to the camp’s edge again and unsheathed his swords. He started running through the drills Dwalin had spent years imprinting on his brain.

He’d worked up a good sweat and decided to go wash in the nearby river and take the chance to recolor his hair (he’d noticed a bit of it dripping down the side of his face when he’d swiped at a little sweat earlier) when Nori came up to him, a bundle of clean-ish clothing under one arm. Together, they went down to the river far from camp and found an area where no one would easily sneak up on them, scrubbed the clothes they wore as well as their bodies. Nori helped Fili reapply the temporary dye to his hair and beard before they dried off and put on their cleaner, dry clothes.

With no other tasks to keep him busy, Fili sat on the river’s bank with his clothes drying on the grass nearby. “Who is she, Nori?” he asked, leaning back on his elbows and letting the sun warm his still-damp hair. He didn’t particularly care for the dark, ashy color. He hadn’t thought he was particularly vain about his blond hair, but apparently he was wrong. Something didn’t feel right, being the Golden Prince of Erebor without his golden hair. 

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

Fili shot him a dark look. “Don’t give me that. The horses we rode yesterday came from a noble’s stables. King Bard’s horse was there for Mahal’s sake.”

“Oh, so you met Snowball, did you?” Nori asked. “Tell me, how hard did he bite? I’ve still got the scar from the first time I came across him.” He started to roll up his sleeve.

“Snow- Nori!” Fili growled.

“Don’t get your trousers in a twist,” Nori said, amused as he pushed his sleeve back down.

“Who. Is. She?” Fili gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Been bugging you, hasn’t it?” Nori asked and sighed. “I can’t tell you who she is.” At Fili’s dark look, Nori raised his hands in surrender. “Really, I can’t. I want to, by Mahal do I want to just so I can laugh at the look on your face, but I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Nori.”

“Don’t give me a command, Your Highness.” Nori pleaded softly, eyes drifting to the grass he idly picked and dropped for the breeze to take away. “I’ll have to disobey and that won’t end well for either of us. I’ll not betray her trust, not for all the gold in Erebor’s treasury.”

Fili clamped down on his frustration, annoyed at his own desperation to know. What did it matter anyway? “What can you tell me?”

“She’s influential and has friends in high places.”

Fili snorted. “I gathered that much on my own, going by the fine horses we rode and where they were stabled.”

Nori’s smile was a touch crooked. “Always were sharp as a tack,” he said, “even if that wasn’t hard to figure out. Even your bro-”

“Don’t try to sidetrack me by insulting Kee’s intelligence. You know as well as I do how smart he is. The Captain is someone important in Dale. Is she part of the noble class? Is she a high-ranking member of their military? Stubborn enough to take on a thankless task and make herself known to the ruling family? What is it?”

Nori plucked more grass from the ground, his mouth set. “Noble class,” he finally said. “I’m sure if you think on it long enough, you’ll figure out what you want to know.”

“You are absolutely no help,” Fili groused.

“You could always just ask her,” Nori pointed out.

“She hates me,” Fili said with a slightly bitter laugh.

Nori’s shoulders hunched a little in a shrug as he made a noncommittal noise. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you, Your Highness. You never know just how close you’ll become with her if you take the time to get to know who she really is.”

Fili looked at Nori’s amused expression. “You’re not telling me something.”

“I’m not telling you a lot of things,” Nori agreed, his grin widening, “but one thing, in particular, is going to be extremely entertaining to watch. I will tell you this though. She insists on referring to you as ‘The Idiot’.”

Fili groaned and hung his head in his hands. 

* * *

Two more days passed and Legolas still hadn't returned. With each passing day, The Captain paced their camp when no one had a task for her to throw herself into. By silent agreement, everyone had started finding any task for her to complete, if only to keep her from wearing a trench into the ground around the camp.

Fili understood. He’d felt similarly after The Disastrous Party. They’d managed to thwart the attempts on his family’s lives, but he’d wanted to find who had been behind the attack. He’d spent weeks pacing, following Dwalin around, searching for answers even as his mother, father, uncle, and grandfather all forbade him from leaving the now heavily guarded royal wing. He still couldn’t decide if the wait for more news was worse than the attack itself.

On the evening of the second night, he took it upon himself to distract The Captain. He handed her an extra wet stone. “Help me with some of these, would you?” he asked as he started to pull each and every one of his knives off his person, except the ones he wore in his boots and the one at the small of his back. Those knives bore the Durin family crest and would give him away to anyone that knew its significance.

The Captain took a seat next to him. Around them, the rest of the Company worked on their own chores, finished their dinners, or slept. Fili handed over one of the knives he wore at his wrists. They set to work sharpening the already deadly weapons.

“So tell me,” Fili started, his eyes never leaving his work as he started with some of the less personal questions clawing to get out of his head. “How do you all exist out here? Nori told me you’re not part of any of the three kingdoms’ militaries. Yet, you must get funds from somewhere. ”

The Captain didn’t look up from her own work. “It’s true we’re not sanctioned by any kingdom but all three support our cause. That alone keeps us from being solely linked with one kingdom over another. The less that’s known about us, the easier it is for us to move around too.”

Fili nodded and tested the blade before going back to work on it. He wanted to know who she was but couldn’t bring himself to outright ask. There had to be a reason everyone called her The Captain instead of by her name, after all. “So all three kings know of your existence and the work you do?”

“Yes.”

“And how did this all start?” He asked, hoping she’d answer him. He feared he was about to spill the crucible in terms of personal questions.

Her mouth set in a grim line but her slow even strokes with the blade didn’t falter. For a while, Fili wondered if she would answer at all. Finally, she said, “Slavers took my sister from the marketplace two years ago. She was only ten years old. I went after them, met Nori just outside their camp. They’d taken his brother. We teamed up and got them back. We talked to the guardsmen in both our cities, went through the proper channels, and got permission from the two ruling houses to do the work that needed to be done. Legolas ran across us during a fight on the Greenwood’s borders about six months ago. He joined up and persuaded his father to let us operate with Greenwood’s support as well.”

Fili whistled, impressed. He’d heard tales of how hard it could be to make King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm make any changes to how he ran his kingdom. “Quite the act of diplomacy.”

“You have no idea,” she said with a smirk. “From what I understand, Legolas had to make all sorts of promises in order to get King Thranduil to agree.”

“I’d imagine,” Fili said, his lips tugging up in amusement. He would have to ask Legolas what exactly he’d promised. 

“What about you?” she asked and handed him the knife she’d been working on before accepting another one to sharpen. “What is a well-to-do dwarf from Erebor doing wandering around the Wilds?”

Fili focused on the knife he held. “I needed a little time away from my family,” he said, tasting the sour half-truth in his mouth. “My great-grandfather can be overbearing when he pays attention. He…” Fili paused, trying to decide what he could and couldn’t say. “He wants me to do something that will supposedly help our family but he never bothered to ask me how I felt about it.”

“Something major?” she asked.

He nodded. “Life-changing,” he admitted.

She hummed. “Well, you have a place with us as long as you need.”

Fili nodded, still not looking up. He hated lying to her. It felt wrong, more so than lying to anyone else ever had (not that he made a habit of lying to people). He swallowed back the sourness overwhelming his mouth, the taste of bile underlying it. “I appreciate that,” he finally said. “I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

The yearning ache in his chest remained steady.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is missing
> 
> Sigrid talks to Bard
> 
> Bard tried. He really did.

Chapter 8

By week’s end, Legolas still hadn’t returned. Sigrid, hoping his continued absence was just a case of him forgetting that time meant something different to mortals, started towards Dale. She would find Legolas and figure out what the delay was before slipping away to talk to her father.

She started at the guardhouse where the caravan’s possessions would have been taken.

“Your Highness!”

And she cringed internally, thanking her lucky stars she’d insisted on leaving Nori and The Idiot back at camp. 

“Hello Kalchik,” she said and approached the old guard’s desk. He moved to stand but she waved him back onto his stool. “No need for that,” she said. “Can you help me with something? Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm was supposed to come in and find some paperwork among the belongings from the caravan we caught kidnapping some of our people. Have you seen him?”

Kalchik scratched at the stubble covering his chin, eyes directed toward the ceiling. “Can’t say I recall any elves coming in on my shift,” he said and turned to shout over his shoulder. “Anyone seen the blond elf prince lately?” He was met with silence. “Guess no one’s seen him, “ Kalchik said. “Not that it means much. Could be an entirely different crew from who was on shift when you sent him here.”

Sigrid resisted the urge to groan. If it weren’t Kalchik, then it was either Smythesson who was a good guard and worked with her requests for access to evidence almost as well as Kalchik, or it was Coombs. He never worked with her willingly and would have done everything he could think of to keep Legolas away from the wagons and such.

“Thank you, Kalchik,” she said. “I need to go meet with my father for a bit and then to find Prince Legolas, but then I will probably come back for the papers we need. Is that all right?”

“Anything for you, Your Highness,” Kalchik said, his grin wide and friendly. Sigrid patted his hand where it sat on his desk before leaving. 

Outside the guardhouse, she pulled the hood on her coat up to try to hide her identity, even a little bit. Walking through Dale in broad daylight did not help. She just hoped she could get to her home before anyone tried to waylay her.

She stuck to the back alleys and side roads, avoiding as many people as she could. Her clothing helped. Instead of the fine dresses she usually wore when she stayed inside Dale’s walls, she wore her black leather armor with a favorite dark red cloak thrown over it all. She’d left her longbow and quiver behind. The workmanship on them both would almost guarantee anyone would recognize her. Most archers in Dale carried much shorter, recurve bows, only using them for hunting. Only soldiers, Sigrid, and her father bothered with the longer-ranged weapons.

Somehow, she managed to make it back to her home with only a few people noticing her. She ducked into the palace through a side entrance, nodding at the familiar guard on duty. The woman snapped to attention but relaxed when Sigrid shushed her and raced by.

She made it across the palace grounds without difficulty and slipped inside through the kitchens. She snagged a pasty off a tray as she darted through, laughing at Cook’s indignant squawking, before heading into the rest of the palace proper.

This late in the afternoon, Sigrid didn’t really need to search for her father. She headed straight for his personal office. She stopped outside his door and knocked. Just as she thought, he was inside. He called for her to come in and she did.

“Hello, Da,” she said as she shut the heavy oak door behind her. 

“Sigrid!” He stood up and rounded his desk, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh my girl, I’ve missed you. Come in, sit down. I’ll call for some lunch.”

“Bit late for lunch,” Sigrid said. “Are you forgetting to eat again?”

Bard glanced out his window, noting the sun’s position. “Oops,” he said. “I swear I’ve been eating regularly. The time just got away from me today is all. I did just return to Dale earlier this morning.”

“You mean you’ve only been eating well lately because you’ve been in Erebor where they’re serious about making sure everyone eats three meals a day,” Sigrid countered as she took her seat. She shoved the pasty she’d stolen from Cook across the desk to him. “Have a snack, for now. Eat dinner in a couple of hours.”

Bard’s amused and happy expression shifted and dropped, becoming sad and a touch forlorn. “What am I ever going to do without you?” he asked quietly.

Sigrid leaned back in her chair, drawing her feet up onto the seat and crossing them. She rested her wrists on her elbows. “What do you mean by that?” she asked. “I’m not going anywhere but back out into the Wilds.”

Bard’s shoulders hunched and he leaned to prop his elbows on the desk and his head into his hands. He scrubbed his face and muttered something.

“Can’t hear you, Da,” Sigrid said, scowling.

“I tried to fight it,” he said, “but the fact is, we can’t have Erebor against us.”

“Da, you’re not making sense.”

“King Thror has demanded we strengthen our alliance with them through your marriage to Prince Fili.”

Sigrid’s stomach plummeted, feeling as if it should be somewhere around her ankles but somehow remaining in her torso. Her mind blanked momentarily and her body sagged, her feet dropping to the floor. Nothing came for a few seconds, some unintelligible gibberish ran through her mind, barely forming anything close to resembling a word.

Finally, the image of The Idiot chuckling as they bantered over the fire and a warm cup of tea that morning came to mind. Her throat loosened enough for her to choke out, “No.”

“Sigrid, My Girl, I can’t change this, not without risking war.”

She barely heard him. 

The Idiot roaring as he charged into battle. 

The Idiot tossing her a knife when she needed it but otherwise leaving her to deal with her own fight. 

The Idiot tossing a wet stone to her to help her stay occupied in her anxiousness over Legolas’s prolonged absence. 

The Idiot shrugging broad shoulders. 

The Idiot’s nose scrunching as he laughed his deep laugh.

The Idiot juggling for scared children.

The Idiot smiling.

The Idiot.

Fisrin.

Fee.

Since when did she feel this deeply for him? She barely knew him. It was a crush. Nothing more.

She had a crush on the Golden Prince. Ever since he’d stepped between her and an assassin at his Coming of Age celebration, giving her and her father time to escape.

She’d had a crush on him. Tried to remember the exact color of his blue eyes, his golden hair. 

She couldn’t anymore. Not really. But she still cared for him, still wanted to get to know the dwarf within the faded images of her memory.

Now though, she remembered the blue-grey of Fisrin’s eyes, the dimples above his mustache, the crow's feet by his eyes that told her very little about his actual age. His self-confident smirk. His swagger. His skill in battle.

Her crush on the Golden Prince was a little girl’s infatuation. She’d known this.

But when had Fisrin found his way into the same position, side by side with Prince Fili?

“No,” she choked again. “Da, I can’t.”

“Sigrid?”

She breathed deeply, trying to ward off the tears she already felt dripping down her cheeks. “I’ve never even spoken to Prince Fili, only seen him once. How can Thror expect us to marry?”

Bard sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I had a chance to speak to Prince Thorin.”

“Fili’s uncle, right?” Sigrid asked, trying to grasp what was happening then and now, to ward off the bombardment of memories of Fisrin.

“Yes, his uncle, in line for the throne after Crown Prince Thrain.” Bard glanced at the door behind her. He got up and locked it, drawing Sigrid further away from Fisrin’s arms flexing as he wielded his twin swords.

“Da?” 

He retook his seat. “This cannot leave this room, do you understand?”

Sigrid nodded and - why couldn’t she get the memory of a shirtless Fisrin throwing Nori over his shoulder in a sparring match out of her head?

“King Thror is not in his right mind.”

Fisrin holding a handstand fled from her mind in an instant. “He’s what?”

“According to Thorin, King Thror spends most of his time in the treasury, barely eating or sleeping. The few times he has left it in the last few years, it has been to declare schemes and plans that would destroy Erebor. The attack on Moria was the first of them before anyone realized that he’d gone mad. Gold Sickness, Thorin called it.”

Sigrid covered her mouth with one hand. “Madness,” she murmured. “His decision to make Prince Fili marry me is just madness on his part.”

“Not entirely,” Bard admitted. “Many of his council agree. Prince Fili’s mother Princess Dis and Prince Thorin are doing all they can to stop it but, as of yet, they haven’t succeeded. Thror has the bit in his mouth and won’t budge.”

“So there’s hope,” Sigrid said, swallowing against her tears and wiping them away with the back of her hand.

“Not much,” Bard said glumly. “That’s where I went last week, to try to stop it. Unfortunately, Thror had the treaty drawn up. A preliminary one, mind you, only stating that in the event of your marriage to Prince Fili, Erebor would increase trade and protection for Dale and our surrounding communities as well as other such things that I don’t think you really care about right now.”

“No, I don’t care,” Sigrid agreed.

“I had to sign it, My Girl. Your engagement will be announced at Prince Kili’s Coming of Age celebration-”

“I’m not going,” Sigrid interrupted.

Bard nodded. “I’m aware. I will think of something to tell Thror if he asks, something superstitious.”

“Every dwarf is superstitious,” Sigrid said, quoting old lessons in diplomacy and, essentially, manipulation.

They fell silent for a time. Sigrid fought with dismay over marrying Prince Fili and memories of the short time she’d spent with Fisrin. No. The Idiot. She couldn’t start using his name now. Not when her life was being decided for her and it wouldn’t involve him the way she might want it to.

Still not feeling well, she shook her head. “We’ll deal with that later,” she decided. “Hopefully Prince Thorin and Princess Dis will find a solution. We can’t do anything from here.”

Bard smiled sadly at her. “I wish I could say otherwise, but don’t hold to hope, My Girl. We are at a disadvantage here.”

Sigrid nodded. “In any case, I need to find Legolas. He’s somewhere in the city, I hope. He was supposed to find some evidence that The Master of Laketown is dealing with the slaving caravans that keep making their way into Dale and Erebor.”

“He’s around the palace somewhere,” Bard said, something in his shoulders relaxing. “Tilda found him when he first arrived in the city. She’s probably still dragging him all across the gardens or something.”

“Right. Thank you, Da. Keep me informed about the situation in Erebor. I’ll make sure to come back in a few months-”

“Sigrid.”

She paused in her retreat from the room. “You need to hand the reins of your Company to another. You’re wedding is in two months. I can’t make excuses that would account for you missing it.”

She swallowed and hung her head. “Yes, Da,” she said. “I’ll make sure I have The Master in custody to be tried before then.”

“I am sorry,” Bard said softly and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She sniffled, wiped her eyes one last time, and straightened her spine. “We’ll manage,” she said.

“I wish I could make sure your marriage wasn’t just about ‘managing’,” Bard said softly.

Sigrid smiled at him, even as another tear or three tracked down her cheeks. “We can’t all be as lucky as you and Mum,” she said. “I better be going.” She moved quickly, unlocking the door and disappearing down the hall before Bard could push away the sudden grief at the mention of his wife.

“I’m sorry,” he said again to the image of his eldest daughter, pale and terrified as she started to run from the inevitability that was her marriage to a prince of Erebor.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili hears too much
> 
> The Captain has news
> 
> Nori isn't any help

Chapter 9

The Captain returned to camp late in the evening with Legolas walking beside her. Fili watched them as they strode by Bofur who sat on watch. He tried not to eavesdrop. He really did, but it was difficult not to when they stopped literally paces away from him to argue.

“You have to tell them  _ something _ ,” Legolas insisted.

“And I will,” The Captain insisted hotly and then added uncertainly, “I just don’t know what.”

“Think of something quick,” Legolas said. “Nori’s coming over and you know he’ll notice something is wrong.”

Fili kept sewing up the rip in his tunic, inspecting his stitches even while watching Nori approach out of his periphery.

“What’s wrong, lass?” Nori demanded as soon as he was close to the two. “You’re pale as Azog.”

Fili tried not to flinch at the Defiler’s name. Many a good dwarf had been lost to that scum at Azanulbizar before Uncle Thorin had jumped between him and Uncle Frerin with no more than a branch to protect them. He’d taken Azog’s arm and supposedly his life. Uncle Thorin and the other soldiers had won the battle that day, but there were too many orcs to retake the lost mines.

Fili chanced a glance behind him. The Captain’s back was to him and he watched as her shoulders slumped. “Gather everyone together,” she said quietly. “I have something I need to tell them.”

Fili faced his work again just as Nori and Legolas moved away from The Captain. He heard her shuffle her feet, heave a sigh, and then move closer to the fire. To his surprise, she sat down next to him.

“You need to work on not tensing when you’re listening in on conversations,” she told him.

Fili looked up at her. He wondered if she saw the worry churning inside him. Apparently she did.

“Stop giving me that look. It’s not the end of the world. Just some bad news is all.” She stared into the fire instead of meeting his eyes.

“Whatever it is, you’re not happy about it though,” Fili pointed out.

“Can’t be helped,” she said. Fili set his mending aside as other members of the Company gathered around the fire, each murmuring to each other or watching The Captain. Finally, when all were gathered, including Bofur and Bifur, The Captain climbed to her feet and onto the log where she’d been sitting. 

“First, the good news,” The Captain said. “Legolas has found paperwork that ties The Master to the caravan we took a week ago.”

A ragged cheer grew among the group.

The Captain lifted her hands and motioned for silence. “Unfortunately, one caravan is not enough to accuse him of being tied to all of them. Dale’s guards are going to go through all the paperwork from the other caravans we’ve taken. They’ll see if they can find similar evidence. If they do, we will move on Laketown and take The Master.”

More cheering. The Captain smiled, their excitement mirroring her own. After a few moments, she motioned for quiet again.

“Now the bad,” she said over the last remaining talkers. Everyone looked at her again, tension lining all their bodies. Fili tried not to clench his mending too tightly, afraid he’d hurt himself on the needle in his hand.

“I’ll only be with you for another two months. My family needs me back home. My duties will be changing and I won’t be able to join you anymore.”

Cries of outrage rose in the group. Fili looked down at his mending, unseeing and no longer listening.

The Captain was leaving.

He’d only been a part of the Company for a short time but he’d been accepted by most, including The Captain it seemed. Then again, who was he kidding? He’d be leaving them around the same time, whether he’d found his One or not. 

“Odd timing that,” Nori said as he plopped down next to Fili sometime later after everyone had gone back to whatever they’d been doing before The Captain had called them over.

“Hmm,” Fili agreed absently. He wondered about The Captain’s family and what new tasks awaited her. From her demeanor, it wasn’t something she was looking forward to.

“The two of you will both be returning to your homes at the same time.”

“So it would seem,” Fili said. Would their paths ever cross? He doubted it. For all that he was a prince, his movements were normally very limited. His presence out here in the Wilds was probably the last gift of a semblance of freedom his mother could give him.

“You even have to leave on the same day.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Maybe if she ever came to Erebor. But how would he ever know? Correspondence with a commoner, especially one of a different race could be tricky, especially with his great-grandfather’s madness fueling certain levels of paranoia. Still, if he could somehow convince Nori to carry letters…

It took him a few minutes to realize Nori had stopped talking but hadn’t moved from his spot next to Fili. “Something wrong?” Fili asked, finally coming out of his thoughts.

“Has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit slow on the uptake?” Nori asked.

“No,” Fili said, confused. “People typically reserve that kind of judgment for Kili when he’s doing his best to seem like a fool. He says it’s a great way to be underestimated and to learn more than he should about other people.”

“That’s true enough,” Nori said. “If he weren’t royal, I’d consider recommending him for the intelligence community.”

Fili shrugged. “He might actually enjoy that. Now, what am I not picking up immediately?”

Nori shook his head. “If you’re not going to figure it out after what I just said, I don’t think outright telling you is going to make a difference.” He stood and walked away to talk to Legolas. After a moment's conversation, Legolas looked over at Fili, shook his head with a smile, and started gesticulating as he responded to something Nori said.

Fili watched him, perplexed. “I’m not sure I followed that,” he muttered and went back to his mending, idle incomplete plans for setting up a correspondence with The Captain running through his head to be discarded an instant later.

* * *

Time among the Company changed, and it didn’t. They still roamed through the Wilds around Dale, Erebor, and Laketown. They sent members of the Company into the cities, always searching for news on trade caravans in the area that may be dealing in more than just household goods. They also listened for word of missing people, seeking out a trend.

There seemed to be a greater sense of urgency about it though and they circled back near Dale often, someone, usually The Captain or Prince Legolas heading straight to contacts amongst the guards in hopes of positive news about paperwork other slave caravans had on them. 

Fili often went into the cities with those searching for rumors or news. He’d long since grown used to the ache in his chest that helped indicate proximity to his One. Now, he tried to pay more attention to it as he moved around the cities. Some days, the ache lessened, others it increased. His One must have been traveling from city to city as well. He searched, going to merchants that sold wares in all three cities on a regular basis.

For some reason, Nori shook his head in dismay as Fili searched while Legolas tried to hide his laughter and failed miserably.

The Captain changed too. She still made a point to talk to each and every person in the Company, but now she made a point to sit near and talk to Fili almost every evening. They spoke of their weapons training, their favorite foods, inconsequential things. Never family. Never home. Never the future.

Fili hated lying to her about who he really was.

Three weeks after she’d returned and told the Company her time with them was limited, Nori woke everyone with a single shout. “Orcs!”

Fili, curled up in his bedroll away from the fire, threw his blankets off and rolled to his feet, pulling his twin swords with him. Dwalin had long since drilled into him to never sleep without his weapons at hand. Usually, he settled for some throwing knives, but out here he kept his swords next to him at all times.

He swung his arms to the sides, flicking his wrists and sending his swords’ sheathes into the dust away from him.

Orcs poured into the camp, screeching and wailing as they attacked. 

Fili roared his defiance and took an orc’s head with his first swing. To his left, he heard The Captain screaming a challenge as her sword arced into the shoulder of another orc. He had to get to her. 

He moved, spinning away from a crude pike and chopping off the orc’s arm and then slicing deeply into their midsection with his second sword. He darted around Legolas and Nori as they pushed three orcs back.

He reached The Captain and turned so they stood back to back, enough space between them so they didn’t accidentally elbow the other or swing wide and hit them but close enough to guard the other from behind. 

The battle raged around them, the Company shifting, shouting, attacking, and defending as orcs tried to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. He fought with calculated coldness, pushing his hatred and rage at the orcs away, smothering the slight panic that always tried to overwhelm him at the sight of them, knowing he’d almost lost two uncles to them before he was even born.

Shifting again, he faced the rest of the camp with The Captain at his side. He kept watch on her out of the corner of his eye, just in case she needed help. She took down orc after orc, her expression never wavering from a grim scowl.  Her movements intrigued him. He watched her fight with a mix of human and dwarf techniques. He almost laughed when she came hilt to hilt and body to body with an orc, reared her head back, and slammed it into the orc’s forehead. The orc dropped, dazed and she ran it through with her sword before deftly parrying a short sword aimed at her ribcage. 

The attack didn’t last long. Soon, bodies of orcs littered the ground. A few members of the company groaned and called for help, their fellows standing over injured bodies as the last orcs were killed.

Fili breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart’s fast beating. He turned to look at The Captain. She leaned against a tree, her sword held loosely in one hand. She smiled at his glance and nodded at his unspoken inquiry to her health. He returned the nod and moved to help with the injured at the same time she did.

As they cleaned up their camp and started to move away from the carnage, slowly so they didn’t strain those with injuries, Nori found his way next to Fili.

“You all right lad?”

“Just fine,” Fili said. “Not a scratch.”

“Good,” Nori said. “If it got out that I let you get hurt, your ma would have my beard.”

Fili smiled slightly, knowing Nori was right. He glanced up at where The Captain helped another human limp along, their pack thrown over her shoulder next to her own.

“I think I’ll make her a new sword when I go back to Erebor,” he said absently and then turned to Nori. “Would you make sure she gets it?” he asked, a sudden feeling of desperation threatening to swamp him.

“Do it yourself,” Nori said brightly, wrapping his arm around Fili’s shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll have every opportunity to do so.”

Fili shook his head. “Prince, remember?”

Nori slapped a hand to his own forehead and drew it down his face, groaning as Legolas laughed from nearby.

“What have I missed this time?” Fili demanded.

“You’re hopeless,” Nori despaired.

Legolas laughed louder, doubling over in mirth.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid is mortified
> 
> Sigrid has a vendetta
> 
> Legolas goes for reinforcements

Chapter 10

“I can’t wait any longer,” Sigrid said, pacing near the edge of the camp. She’d volunteered for the watch as she often did when restless. Nori sat on a boulder with his back to the fire, staring out along the plains between Dale and Laketown.

“Can’t wait for what?” Legolas asked from where he perched in a tree above their heads. One foot hung off his branch, dangling precariously close to the top of Sigrid’s head any time she passed beneath him. He’d tapped her a time or two, just to annoy her. To his disappointment, she hadn’t even flinched.

She paused and reached up to smack Legolas’s foot. He pulled it out of her reach before she could. “To go after the Master,” she elaborated.

“Why the sudden rush?” Legolas asked. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“You forget that I am,” she said. “It’s been seven weeks. I have to return to my family in another week and a half.”

Legolas looked at her, perplexed for a moment and then comprehension dawned. “Time,” he muttered. “I forget it feels different to mortals.”

“It’s normal for us,” Nori said. “You elves are the ones with the skewed perspectives.”

Sigrid shifted her shoulders, trying to relieve some of the frustration-fueled tension in her body. She ended up hunching them further. “We need to go to Laketown,” she said and Nori and Legolas left their argument where it was.

“We?” Nori asked. “The three of us?”

“A few more than that, but not the entire Company,” Sigrid said. “We’ll need a few, those of us that are good at getting into places we’re not supposed to and are also good in a fight.”

Nori nodded. “The three of us, for sure then. Bofur is good at creating a diversion and he’s handy enough with that mattock of his. Bifur draws too much attention, unfortunately.”

“Myrdin,” Legolas added as he dropped out of his tree. “She’s adept at staying in the shadows.”

“And Fee,” Nori finished.

“The Idiot?” Sigrid asked. “Really?”

“He’s good in a fight,” Nori said, “and he’s been standing ten feet or less from you for the last fifteen minutes and you haven’t noticed him so I’d say he’s decent enough at remaining unseen.”

“Twenty,” The Idiot’s voice sounded from the other side of Legolas’s tree.

Sigrid glared at the tree. The Idiot stepped out from behind it. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” she asked. “You have the second watch tonight.”

“It was supposed to start ten minutes ago,” The Idiot pointed out. “Do you really call me ‘The Idiot’ all the time or is that only for special occasions?”

Nori smirked. “Told you,” he said as Sigrid hid her face in mortification.

“It’s how I first thought of you and it wouldn’t go away,” she confessed.

“I’ve been called worse,” The Idiot said with a shrug. Sigrid couldn’t find anything to say. After a few moments of awkward silence, he continued, “So, Laketown?”

Nori, Valar bless him, took it upon himself to explain Sigrid’s suspicions about The Master. While he did, Sigrid resumed pacing, trying to decide how to go about finding the information they needed without getting caught.

“A small group would be best,” The Idiot said, bringing Sigrid back to the conversation at hand. “Stagger our arrival, go in with at least one other person. Once in the city, break apart and come together in new groups. Where would we find what we need?”

“The Master’s house,” Sigrid said, “or perhaps the town hall.”

The Idiot nodded. “Leave at least one group wandering around outside each location to distract anyone that arrives, just in case. If we can bring enough people in without drawing suspicion, we should also set a group to follow The Master and anyone that might be helping him.”

“Alfrid,” Sigrid spat.

“Slimy as an eel,” Nori agreed.

“The Master’s favorite minion,” Legolas added.

The Idiot tipped his head in recognition of their claim. “If you feel he would be part of the scheme, then yes. Perhaps have groups of three or four trailing them? Rotate them through every street or two so they go unnoticed.”

“Did I mention he has a good head for tactics as well?” Nori asked.

“You failed to remember that, I’m afraid,” Legolas said.

Sigrid didn’t respond. Instead, she looked at Legolas and Nori. “Gather those you think would be good for the job. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

* * *

“What’s this really about lass?” Nori asked the next morning as they walked along the road between Dale and Laketown. “You’ve been after The Master for months. Why the sudden urgency?”

“I hate leaving things unfinished,” Sigrid said. “In under two weeks, I’m going to have to go home to Dale and I doubt I’ll be able to return to the Company, ever.”

“You know we’d keep your work going for you,” Legolas said from where he walked at her other side.

Sigrid shifted how her pack sat on her shoulders, her fingers remaining on the straps and tapping out a rhythm. “Da’s had reports that The Master was abusing his powers for years,” she finally said. “He’s never been able to prove anything other than too high taxes but, as Da only has so much power in Laketown and he receives the share of Laketown’s taxes that are owed Dale for our protection and such. But we’ve had people come to us, asking for help. He’s tried finding something, anything to use to legally pull The Master out of power and let the people choose someone more suited, but hasn’t been able to. If we can prove he’s been aiding illegal slave trade, that’s enough. I want to help.”

“You think he also had something to do with the caravan that tried to take your sister and Ori,” Nori said.

Sigrid shrugged one shoulder. “I won’t deny it,” she said. “He’s the last person that may have been involved. If I can prove that he was and then make sure he’s put behind bars, I’ll sleep a lot better once I’m,” she paused, “once I’m-”

“Married to the Prince of Erebor?” Nori supplied.

Sigrid’s head whipped around so she could stare at him so fast something popped and a spike of pain darted up into the base of her skull. “How do you know about that?” she demanded.

Nori smirked at her. “I have my ways,” he said, “and no, they didn’t include listening in on your conversation with your da.”

“Nori,” she whined, “Please, please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want anyone to know about that.”

“Why not?” Legolas asked.

“If you told the Company, you might find help in the most unexpected of places,” Nori added. “Who knows? Maybe even your favorite Idiot might be able to help out.”

“Nori,” Sigrid hissed and glanced over her shoulder. The Idiot walked along next to Bofur, oblivious to her conversation with Legolas and Nori.

“Just saying,” Nori said with a shrug and an amused look at Legolas.

“Is it really that important?” Legolas asked. “Married in two weeks, married in two years? Does it matter in the grand scheme of things?”

“Is this another one of your issues with grasping time properly?” Nori asked. “Even dwarves care about a few weeks on occasion.”

“Must be,” Legolas said.

“Whatever the case,” Sigrid said before Nori could retort, “I just want The Master taken care of before I’m no longer able to do something myself.”

“Then we will help,” Legolas said with a smile. Nori nodded his agreement and they prepared to stop for a meal and decide how they would group together to Laketown.

* * *

Sigrid wandered Laketown’s market, watching The Master out of the corner of her eye as the odious man berated a shopkeeper for daring to even suggest he pay for the goods he wanted. Sigrid ground her teeth in frustration. She could report The Master to her father for that alone, but the most King Bard could do for one such instance was to charge The Master some sort of fine which Bard would then give to the shopkeepers The Master had wronged. Nothing stopped The Master from then doing all he could to defame the shopkeeper until no one would buy their wares. 

She’d seen it before. But with no real evidence, Bard couldn’t do anything about it other than give the shopkeep a place to live in Dale and help them get back on their feet.

The Master turned to leave in righteous indignation, the heavy coat he’d been arguing with the shopkeeper shoved at one of his lackeys, as well as a scarf for “recompense for causing trouble.”

Sigrid consciously restrained herself from going over and smacking The Master herself. Instead, she handed the shopkeeper she’d been loitering near a few coppers as she selected a cream-filled pastry.

She meandered towards the other side of the market, taking a circuitous route, knowing Legolas had The Master insight at that point. She’d just about reached her new spot, a leatherworker’s stall with a set of lovely archer’s guards on display. She was examining the work closely, noting the neatness of the stitching and the lovely thrushes stamped on them when Nori appeared at her side.

“Leave it,” he told her. “We have enough but we have to move fast.”

Sigrid glanced at Nori and set the guards back on the stall’s table. “I’d like to purchase these but I’m afraid I must take care of a few things first today. Could I come back tomorrow to buy them?”

The stall owner tapped a finger against the wood. “I’ll not hold them for you, m’lady,” the woman said, “but if they’re still here, we can talk price then.”

“Wonderful,” Sigrid said and started to move away. “Thank you and have a lovely day.”

Nori leaned over the shop’s counter. “Might consider closing up early in four days Mistress,” he warned quietly. “Trouble’s afoot with slavers and those The Master don’t like. See to your family and warn your neighbors.”

The woman nodded. “Thank you kindly, Master Dwarf. We’ll be careful about it too. The early warning you give will help us be discreet.”

With a twitch of his fingers in farewell, Nori led Sigrid away from the stall and towards a nearby alley. Just past where the light easily hit the wooden boards making the walkway, she could vaguely make out The Idiot’s form as well as Legolas’s. “You’re sure you have enough?” Sigrid asked.

“We’ll be catching his greasy little henchman in the act,” Nori said. “Heard it all from his lips. The caravan is leaving tomorrow well before sunrise. The excuse is that they want to be on the road to Dale before any storms hit.”

Sigrid glanced out toward the lake where storms most often approached. Not a single cloud floated over the lake’s surface. She snorted. “They really think people are going to believe that?”

“You might be able to convince an Ereborian dwarfling that hasn’t been out of the mountain yet,” Nori said.

“That might even be a stretch,” Sigrid said as they joined Legolas and The Idiot in the alley. “What else have you learned?” she asked.

“In four days, The Master is going to hand-deliver a list of people he wants out of Laketown to a Southron caravan currently in the city. Those on the list are targets to be taken as slaves and sold wherever the Southron’s deem fit,” Nori said.

“To Moria,” The Idiot added grimly. “The Southrons said they would take them directly to the orcs in Moria.”

The bottom dropped out of Sigrid’s stomach. They’d all heard about the horrors in Moria. She’d met a runaway slave once, a young woman who had been captive for a little under a year. Her family could no longer recognize her, she was so thin and scarred. She’d aged long before her time.

“Four days?” Sigrid asked. Nori nodded. “You’re right. We don’t have much time. Probably too little. Legolas, how fast can you get to Dale?”

“Without a horse? About two days. With a horse, I should be able to make it by tomorrow afternoon.”

Sigrid handed over a bag of coins. “Buy a horse if you have to. Find Kalchik if you can. If he’s not at the guardhouse, head straight to King Bard and request troops mobilize at once. Hopefully, you’ll be back in time. Go now. If you’re not back by three hours after dark, we’ll move without support.”

Legolas turned and ran down the alley, dodging old crates, fishing nets, and refuse as he went.

“Gather the others. We need to continue to observe the caravan, Alfrid, and The Master. Nori spread the word to the common folk, warn them what is happening but don’t cause panic. These people are good at not drawing attention, even during a crisis. They’ll protect each other and themselves. If you can find that list or learn who is on it, do so but don’t put yourself in danger.”

Nori sauntered out of the alley, looking all the world as if he were just going for a stroll and a gander at the local goods. He leaned on the counter at a baker’s stall and struck up a conversation with the young man working the counter. He passed a coin across, received a sweet roll and a nod in return, and moved off, deeper into the market.

Finally, Sigrid looked at The Idiot. “Nori said you’re good at tactics and you’ve shown a bit of it,” she said. “If we end up in a fight with the caravan, what would you suggest we do?”

The Idiot stepped toward the mouth of the alley, motioning for her to follow. “Come with me. We’ll find the best location to have a fight and figure out how to drive the enemy to it. We only have a few days and possibly a small number of fighters. Let’s get to work.”


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is late
> 
> Fili slips
> 
> Nori cackles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter where the point of view switches from one character to another.

Chapter 11

With a battle plan in mind, Fili, The Captain, Nori, and other members of the Company continued their work in Laketown, following The Master, Alfrid, and high ranking members of the caravan around the city. For days, they moved as unseen as possible by their quarry, all the while helping spread warnings among Laketown’s people, especially those on the list Alfrid had given to the caravan that Nori had somehow found and copied. Soon, the entire city was on alert.

Though they were careful and the people did their best to not draw attention, guards and members of the constabulary around the city started to shift uncomfortably and watched people more closely. Less laughter rang out in the streets, few children raced around if any, all of them kept close to their parents. Even the gulls that liked to flock around the market in search of leftovers from the fishmongers croaked their territorial warnings softer.

On the morning of the fourth day, Fili and The Captain checked over the market, making sure it really was the best place for the attack they planned. No other place in all of Laketown had the square footage of solid walkways. Everywhere else was small docks and paths between dwellings and larger shops. They’d spoken to many of the stall owners who agreed to find excuses to make sure they removed any and all goods to their homes, just in case the stalls themselves were damaged in the fight.

As the day wore on, The Captain paced more through the city, often returning to the single bridge that led to dry land and to the main docks closest to Dale. Every time she did, she muttered to herself.

Prayers, Fili realized after their fourth trip to the docks. She muttered prayers for safety for her Company and speed for Dale’s troops.

“Can we win the fight without reinforcements?” The Captain asked, scanning the market again.

“We’ve brought the entire Company into Laketown,” he reminded her quietly. “You know their worth as fighters better than I do.”

The Captain nodded and continued her pacing toward the bridge to the mainland.

Night fell and still, Legolas did not return with news from Dale’s troops. The Captain sent the word out through Nori, asking the entire Company to gather together inside a public house once the caravan members disappeared into The Master’s home as “his personal guests.” With a quick coin to the pub’s owner, the Company retreated to a back room meant for storage. It wasn’t exactly necessary considering the lack of patronage that night, but the extra security didn’t hurt any.

They all settled in, checking armor and weapons, sharpening already keen blades. None of them spoke. They waited, hoping Legolas would return with Dale’s soldiers.

No one spoke.

Finally, The Captain climbed to her feet, sliding her sword into its sheath. She nodded to all of them, clapped Nori on the shoulder as she walked by him, and led the way out of the pub and toward the Master’s house.

The wooden walkways were deserted. All the city’s boats were tied securely to docks. Only a few lights burned behind curtained windows. Fili occasionally caught a hint of movement from one of the windows. Curtains shifting slightly as people peeked out at the slight vibrations caused by The Company’s travel toward the Master’s house. Beyond that, nothing stirred.

They took up positions all around the building, watching every single exit, including the ones The Master didn’t think anyone else knew about. Fili settled across from a side entrance, usually reserved for servants to use.

He heard a barn owl hoot from his left, Bofur signaling that everyone was in position. Fili started counting slowly, his hands resting on the hilts of his swords.

A crash broke the stillness. Fili tensed, waiting. Shouting drifted on the air and then the door in front of him burst open.

What could only be members of the caravan poured into the darkened streets. Fili lunged to his feet. With a wordless cry, he launched himself at the mass, slamming the hilts of his swords into lightly armored midriffs, the flats of his blades against upraised arms. He kicked at knees, bringing caravaners down so he could smash them over the head and knock them unconscious.

He took down three, the other six fled, heading toward boats the Company had scouted out two days prior. He chased after them. Another member of the Company, one of the less combative ones, would come along and take care of the three he’d knocked senseless.

He caught up to the first of six, a rotund man puffing his way along behind the group and clutching a Warhammer, within the first ten meters. Fili raced up a series of stacked crates and launched himself off them and onto the man’s back. He went down and Fili barely took the time to bash him over the head into oblivion before he was up and running again.

Fili shifted his path and sprinted into the marketplace just behind the caravaners. He slipped behind a set of stalls, taking the narrow path between them and headed toward the water at the market’s edge. He came out just in front of the remaining five caravaners. He stood in front of them, braced for a fight, his swords held at the ready.

Before they could charge him, he threw his head back and gave a raucous caw, absently hoping none of Erebor’s crows were nearby. He didn’t want to have to explain to one of them why he was claiming territory when he didn’t need their help. It’d be even worse trying to keep them from telling Uncle Thorin where they’d seen him. With luck, a member of the Company would be nearby and hear him. He didn’t particularly need help taking the caravaners down, but he didn’t fancy trying to drag them all back to The Master’s house before Laketown’s citizens decided they wanted to deal with the would-be slavers themselves. Permanently.

The caravaners rushed him. He ducked the first one’s swing and threw them over his shoulder and into the water behind him. They hadn’t even reached the water when he engaged the next two, meeting their ax and rapier simultaneously. A fourth came straight at him with a cudgel aimed for his head. He ducked and twisted, throwing out a leg and sending the cudgel wielder headfirst into a stall. He would have winced when their head struck a beam and they bounced off it, sprawling onto their back dazed, but the fifth caravanner wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him off his feet.

Fili dropped one sword and pulled the short knife he had hidden up his sleeve free. He stabbed backward and low.

The woman holding him howled in pain and dropped him. He grabbed the sword he’d dropped and lifted both to catch the ax haft swing toward him just in time.

He ducked the rapier just in time.

He rolled away, trying to create enough distance that he could climb back to his feet. He’d barely made it up when the rapier sliced towards his shoulder. He knocked it aside with his left sword and came in with his right arm, swinging high over his head. With the weight of his sword adding momentum to his swing, he knocked the man off his feet. He crumpled and didn’t move.

Fili turned back toward the ax wielder. She tossed the short ax from one hand to the other, trying to distract or intimidate, Fili wasn’t sure. He lunged in and knocked the ax flying while it was between the woman’s hands. She stared dumbfounded after it. Fili punched her hard in the jaw. She fell, groaning.

With all five of his opponents sprawled and injured, Fili relaxed his stance a little, taking stock of his surroundings.

“Look out, Idiot!”

Fili spun. The man he’d launched into the water rammed into him. Fili caught a glimpse of him just before impact and turned slightly, changing the hit from full strength to a glancing blow. Fili stumbled slightly and turned again. He backed up quickly, his swords up again. The man roared and charged him. Fili tossed his swords aside just before the man reached him. He grabbed the man’s tunic, sidestepped, and threw the man hard in the same direction he’d been running. The man rammed into a stall.

Suddenly, Fili’s foot slipped out from under him. He hadn’t realized how close to the water’s edge he’d been. He fell back, off the dock, and into the water.

* * *

Sigrid raced toward the market where she’d seen The Idiot chase after six caravaners. After she’d taken care of the three that had come out the “secret” water exit (really, she’d already put a hole in the bottom of the boat. She’d just waited for the caravaners to swim to shore, helped them out of the water and handed them over to Nori’s waiting bindings), she started listening for anyone needing help. When The Idiot had cawed, she’d given chase after making sure Nori had things under control at The (soon to be former) Master’s house. Distantly, she heard horns belonging to Dale’s soldiers blaring as they approached the city from multiple directions. Good. The soldiers could take care of the captives. 

“I’ll catch up as soon as your da’s people take care of this lot!” Nori called to her retreating back.

She’d passed the first prone form shortly after the point where she’d lost sight of The Idiot. She shouted for Bofur to come to take care of the man and then continued toward the market.

She approached slowly, sword in hand. She scanned the area around her for traps. She was pretty sure they’d contained all the rest of the caravan members, the six The Idiot had chased were the only ones not accounted for.

She heard battle on the far side, close to the water. She slipped between stalls, still searching for some kind of trap. When she reached the end of the row of stalls, she stopped to watch The Idiot punch a short, lithe woman in the jaw. She fell, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

The Idiot relaxed his stance.

Movement to the side caught Sigrid’s attention. A man, dripping with lakewater barrelled toward The Idiot.

“Look out, Idiot!” Sigrid shouted. She was too far away, on The Idiot’s wrong side to stop the man.

The Idiot dropped his weapons, grabbed the man, and threw him into a stall. Sigrid released the breath that had caught in her throat.

Then The Idiot fell.

“No!” She screamed and raced to the dock’s edge, dropping her sword and belt. She skidded to a stop and shifted to kick her boots off and dive into the water after The Idiot.

“Give me a hand, will you?”

She breathed a sigh of relief at the voice only to stop, perplexed at the sight in front of her.

It was The Idiot, no doubt about it. No one else had those broad shoulders, strong nose, and bright blue-grey eyes.

But his hair.

“It’s dyed,” she said, still staring at the still half-coated blond mess hanging down to his shoulders.

The Idiot blinked up at her. He reached up and wiped some of the water and hair off his face. He grimaced at the dark coloring now smeared onto his fingers as well as his cheek. “Brilliant,” he muttered darkly and then looked up at Sigrid. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to not tell anyone?” he asked.

Sigrid shook her head to clear it. He looked… familiar. So familiar. “Get out of the water,” she said. “Then we’ll talk.”

The Idiot grabbed the dock's edge and started hauling himself out of the water. When he had his knees on the wood, Sigrid reached a hand out to help him stand. He shifted his weight and took it.

She knew him. In a sudden burst of clarity, she remembered the first time she’d laid eyes on the Golden Prince of Erebor, the first time she’d met those blue-grey eyes and tried to shout to warn him about the assassin behind him. She remembered the depth of his voice in the one word he’d spoken directly to her and her father the night he’d celebrated his Coming of Age. She remembered every little thing about him she’d observed that night even as she’d tried and failed to memorize everything, anything else from her first grownup party. Of course, she knew him. How could she not?

They were two parts of One. 

She dropped his hand as if he’d burned her. His look of shock turned to one of alarm. Depending on her to pull him upright, he overbalanced backward...

And fell back into the lake.

From somewhere nearby, Nori started cackling.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything ends as it should

Epilogue

The Master, Alfrid, and all members of the caravan were tried and found guilty of slave-trading and conspiracy to enslave free peoples. They were branded traitors and banished from Erebor, Dale, Laketown, and Greenwood, or they were executed.

The Master received the latter sentence considering the amount of slaving caravans he had dealt with and how many people he’d handed over to them to sell as slaves. Including children. 

Sigrid only dimly paid attention to the proceedings. With The Master’s death and Alfrid’s branding and exile, a weight she’d carried for over a year lifted. Everyone involved in Tilda’s kidnapping had been brought to justice. Tilda too seemed happier and more at ease.

Or maybe that was because Sigrid had let her help plan her wedding to Fili, the Golden Prince of Erebor.

She’d been calling him “The Idiot” for weeks.

Bard had seemed confused when Sigrid returned to Dale with the soldiers and prisoners and then had stayed, handing over leadership of her Company to Bifur and Bofur jointly. She offered the position to Legolas, but he’d declined, reminding her that he too was royalty and had his own duties to attend to quite often. Nori was out of the question too, though he refused to say why.

With Tilda’s help, she planned her wedding, at least the portion of it that took place in Dale.

She never told anyone that Fili was her One. As far as she knew, he never had either. They still laughed about it, over four years since the day she’d hauled him out of the Long Lake’s water.

Now, she stood on their private balcony, watching a small group leave Erebor on foot. “I hate that we had to send them out today of all days, but what Tilda said in her last letter points too strongly to slavers again. We can’t risk them disappearing in the night while everyone is celebrating,” she said.

“I know today is Midwinter and we have to be here,” Fili said, coming to stand next to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. “But we could still head out tomorrow, catch up to them if you want to.”

Sigrid smiled and turned into Fili’s embrace. She leaned into him, resting her head on top of his. He easily took her weight against him. “Not this time,” she said. “I want to watch Kili and Legolas blunder their way through their first festivities together. I still can’t believe they’re One.”

“If elves weren’t so against physical contact,” Fili grumbled playfully and conveniently ignoring the fact that they’d only touched because he’d fallen into the Long Lake, “they would have known years ago when we married and they were in the same room for the first time.”

Sigrid hummed noncommittally and then sighed. “I’m going to miss chasing down slaving caravans for a while,” she admitted.

“What do you mean by that? We can go out tomorrow as I said.”

Sigrid shook her head. “Probably not the best idea. I don’t know how it is with dwarves, but we humans tend to frown on a woman going into battle when she’s pregnant.”

Fili opened his mouth to retort and then froze.

“Love?” Sigrid asked, worried when he didn’t move a muscle for prolonged moments.

“Pregnant,” he breathed and then turned to look up at her. “Really? You are?” Hope and disbelief showed openly on his face.

“I was going to wait until tonight to tell you after all the celebrations were over. Oin confirmed it three days ago,” Sigrid nodded and shrieked when Fili picked her up and spun her around, laughing the entire time. “Put me down, Idiot!” she ordered. “You’ll make me sick. Again.”

“You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?”

“It’s been four years,” she reminded him. “What do you think?”

“I think I was the happiest dwarf that ever lived when I woke up this morning. Now I know I will be the happiest dwarf to ever live, My Darling, Pretty Sigrid.” He set her on her feet. She leaned over and pressed her forehead against his, warding off dizziness as well as enjoying being close to him.

“My Fili,” she murmured.

“Always and forever,” he said and kissed her gently, one hand resting on her stomach where their child grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hobbit Holidays AnironSidh! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Thanks to Moonlight Rurouni for being the best beta!
> 
> Thanks to The Paramedic for not getting annoyed with all my "Will it kill someone if..." questions.


End file.
